Krum Do I Love?
by yael
Summary: Re-loaded per your request. Yet another H/Hr/D love-triangle fic. A humorous soap opera with some angst elements. Everybody falls for Hermione, but who she loves remains to be seen. Comes complete with the mandatory Death Eaters and Dragons.
1. Day Dreams

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**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 1**

Day Dreams

**Summary:** D/H/H love triangle. A humorous soap opera with some angst elements. Everybody falls for Hermione, but who she loves remains to be seen. Comes complete with the mandatory Death Eaters and Dragons.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Note & Dedications:**   
_This is only the first of 12 chapters. The rest of the chapters can be found in http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Deception . You are more than welcome to join us there!_

This is not a sequel to "Harry Potter and the Unforgivable Curses". On the contrary, this has a totally different genre, style, and time positioning. I am, however loyal to whatever it was that I wrote in that fic, even if this is not in the same spirit.

I am aware that the H/H/D triangle had been exploited to the fullest. I don't care. I write for my own selfish pleasure, and if you enjoy it too, than be my guest. If not, well, I'd love to hear about it, but it won't make me stop.

If you do like this love-triangle, you've probably already read everything by Cassandra Claire, but if you haven't, this is the time. She's the greatest.

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Hermione sat in the Great Hall, thinking. The food in front of her smelled delicious, and had a great texture as well. It really formed marvellous shapes when she shifted it around with her fork.

Her elbow rested on the table, and her head was leaning against the heel of her hand. She was too busy thinking of the Yule Ball to eat. After the huge success it had been on Yule night at her fourth year, the ball had become as essential part of Christmas. And now it was only two days away, and Hermione still didn't have anyone who wanted to go as her partner.

Last year she went with Neville Longbottom, who found himself suddenly alone, after Ginny started dating Harry. But she couldn't go with him this year. They would draw too many venomous darts, especially from the Slytherins. During the past year, Hermione had grown taller by at least three inches, and Neville, well, hadn't. She didn't think she could stand even one more snide comment Malfoy would make, and she didn't want to get expelled for cursing a fellow student. Even if he deserved it.

The year before that, Hermione went with Viktor Krum. Her first ball ever, and she went with a TriWizard champion, a Quidditch star, and a really nice guy. Hermione smiled. She really liked Viktor. The regular owl correspondence she kept with him during the last two years had made her know him as a sweet, sensitive guy, who was, unfortunately, very far away.

There was always Ron, of course. He didn't have a date for the Yule Ball either, but Hermione couldn't go with him. She hadn't spoken to him for two weeks now. She was still angry with him for copying her Potions assignment word-to-word without even asking her permission. Snape obviously caught them, and was very happy to grant them with failing mark and detentions. Hermione spent two nights scrubbing armour suits instead of studying. So she couldn't go with Ron.

Maybe she would just stay in the dormitories. She had a lot of work on the second round of the OWLs, and the NEWTs were only eighteen months away. Some quiet time with her books could prove most useful.

Still moving her fork slowly over her food, Hermione was just about to add a third tower to her mashed-potato castle when her plate suddenly disappeared. She looked at the empty space on table with wide eyes. The golden fork was still in her hand, and everyone else's plates seemed to be in place, but hers was gone. She drew back from the table, blinking more rapidly than normal.

The moment Hermione removed her elbow from the table, something appeared on it. A huge bouquet of rare magical flowers that took up the entire space between Harry to her left and Neville to her right. It had blinking carnations, colour-changing roses, humming geraniums, and many others that Hermione didn't know by name. Dew droplets hovered about the bouquet, sparkling in the candlelight.

Hermione had seen flowers like these before, but only in books. And such a large collection of them she had never seen, not even in a picture. She drew back in awe, gasping at the sight, unable to take her eyes off it.

"Bee-ooti-ful, aren't they, Hermy-own-ninny?" said a creamy voice behind her back.

The familiar, and yet alien voice made Hermione's gaze tear off the flowers, and turn back. The speech was Viktor's, but he couldn't... he wasn't... he would have written to her if he was coming to Hogwarts.

Nevertheless, she recognised the skinny features, the thick black hair, and the bushy black eyebrows, with the warm, black eyes underneath them. It was Viktor Krum who stood there, smiling smugly. "They are," said Hermione, her voice sounding to her like it had travelled a great distance to get there.

"But not as bee-ooti-ful as you, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor said with a deep voice. He looked at her, and his eyes looked even darker than she remembered.

"Did you bring them with you?" she asked astonished. She was aware of the small crowd that was beginning to form around them.

"For you. All the vay from Bulgaria," he said, ignoring the curious spectators. "I vanted to bring someffing that vill match your beauty, but I haff failed." He took her right hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed her hand gently, his mouth hovering above her fingers just close enough to send shivers along her arm, and all the way down her spine.

"I... Thank you," Hermione mumbled, trying to put some order into her thoughts. "Why didn't you write to let me know you were coming? I would have..." she would have dressed up for him and have used make-up charms. Instead, she said, "I would have cleared time to spend with you, without school assignments."

"That is all right," Viktor assured her. "I haff things to look up in the library as vell. Ve can go there together, just like ve used to." He still held her hand, and was now kissing the inside of her palm.

Hermione drew her hand back slowly, yet determinately. Measuring her features, Viktor allowed her to take it. "So, I understand there is a Yule Ball here the day after tomorrow," he said. "Do you haff any engagements for the ball?"

"Actually, no," Hermione admitted.

"Vell," said Viktor, a triumphant smile on his lips, "Vood you like to go vith me?" He finished the question without the smile, and looked at her anxiously.

"Of course I would," Hermione said before a second had passed. Applause filled the air around them. Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, and even Viktor, who was used to large audiences, shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"Maybe ve should go someplace else," he suggested. Hermione accepted his extended hand willingly, but then stopped, giving the bouquet an anguished look. "I vill arrange for the flowers to be moved to your dormitories," Viktor promised, smiling at Hermione's obvious relief.

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Draco Malfoy rose to his feet as he saw Viktor Krum step into the Great Hall. Two years before, when Krum was a guest of the Slytherin house, he and Draco were on very good terms. True, they didn't exactly stay friends afterwards; only the occasional owl on birthdays and Christmas. Still, Draco made sure he was always well informed about all the Bulgarian national team games, just in case an opportunity arose. And that opportunity seemed to have just walked into the room.

At first, Draco thought that Krum was there to visit his Slytherin friends from the Triwizard Tournament days. Then, he realised Krum was heading towards the Gryffindor table. He was going to see that know-it-all Mudblood, Hermione.

It was beyond Draco's ability to understand what Krum found in that Mudblood. He was from a very-well respected European bloodline. His family could be traces hundreds of years back. Even without that heritage, Viktor Krum was one of the richest, most famous wizards alive, and was considered the best Quidditch Seeker in the world. Hermione didn't even like Quidditch. She didn't understand the game at all. Of course, not much can be expected from someone who only heard of Quidditch when she was eleven.

Krum had everything going for him. He could get practically every girl he wanted. Why would he want her anyway? True, he had his disadvantages when it came to looks. This was actually the funny thing about this couple. She was in fact very pretty and...

Draco shook the thought off his head. What was he doing thinking about a Mudblood in terms of 'pretty'. _There's nothing wrong in revering nature's beauty_, Draco thought in an attempt to justify that odd shiver that passed through him. A Unicorn was very pretty too. That didn't mean he was interested in a unicorn for an intimate relationship.

Was he comparing the Mudblood to a Unicorn? A Unicorn was ten times more magical than this almost muggle girl. Draco had to admit that she knew her way with spells. She was even better than he was in some areas. This was a cause for many reprimands from his father. Then again, he was much better than her with anything that had to do with the Dark Arts. A smirk spread on his face as he remembered his father teaching him how to toss a fireball. His fires were large and reached far and made his father proud.

Ignoring the fact that Krum was standing too close to the Gryffindor table, Draco began to walk towards him. He was too late, though. Before he even passed the Ravenclaw table, the world-famous Quidditch seeker walked out of the Hall, hand in hand with the pretty little Mudblood. Draco's smirk turned momentarily into a sneer, but then returned to decorate his face as he saw Ron Weasley's expression. In all his attempts to annoy the hot-tempered Redhead he did not get to see such a tormented look on his face. He only wished he had a camera.

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Many eyes followed Hermione and Krum as they left the Great Hall, but the most interested pair had to belong to Ron. True, he hadn't exchanged a word with Hermione in two weeks (his fault she was mad), but she still was one of his two best friends. His other best friend, Harry Potter, was watching them right beside him, chewing lazily on a tremendously large piece of Yorkshire pudding.

The moment the couple was gone from sight, Harry turned back to his plate and took another huge bite of the pie.

Ron kept his gaze on the door, half-hoping that it would open, and Hermione would return, saying that this was a weird case of mistaken identity.

"Did you see how he just swept her off her feet?" Ron asked Harry absentmindedly. "Unbelievable! I thought Hermione was smarter than that.

Harry stopped chewing and looked at him with his mouth half open. "With those flowers? Are you kidding? I would have gone with him too, if he'd asked."

Ron gave looked at him the same way Snape usually observed his Gryffindor students.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't," Harry said meekly. "But I'm sure any girl would. And anyway, he's a friend of hers, why wouldn't she go?"

"That wasn't very friendly, the way he kissed her!" Ron called.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ron," Ginny scolded. "He only kissed her hand. What do you care, anyway?"

Ron seemed as if he just woke from a dream. He moved his gaze back to the food and took his fork resolutely in his hand. "I don't."

"Good," said Ginny.

"Good," repeated Ron.

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The night was very cold. Very few stars were visible between the heavy clouds. Victor took off his heavy wool cloak and moved even closer to Hermione. Slowly, he wrapped the dark warmth around her shoulders, keeping one hand around her when he was done. They walked like that for several minutes, not talking, making their way leisurely towards the lake.

"Aren't you cold?" asked Hermione, her voice only barely audible.

"No. Vere I come from it is much colder," said Viktor. "This is nice autumn evening for me." His voice was deep and tender, and had a hint of humour in it. He gave Hermione's shoulder a little squeeze, sending shivers down her spine.

"Why didn't you write to tell me you were coming?" Hermione asked, her voice a little less dreamy.

"I didn't know I vos." Viktor stopped, and then moved to face her. "I kept thinking about you, and than ve had a few days off... my first impulse vos to come see you, and I followed it. I'm glad I did." He put his other hand on her free arm and pulled her slightly closer to him, but still distant enough so he could look into her eyes. "I'm glad I did."

"I'm very happy to see you too, Viktor," Hermione said hesitantly. She was happy, but it seemed to her that Viktor had some serious intentions about her. Intentions she wasn't sure she wanted to share.

His hands slid to her waist, and he pulled her even closer. Hermione felt her feet leave the ground as he lifted her easily towards him. Before she realised what was happening, they were engaged in a long, passionate kiss. It wasn't just him kissing her. After the first shock of his warm lips encasing her mouth in a tender, inviting manner, she willingly accepted the invitation. She kissed him back, marvelling on her new discovery of liking it.

After that first kiss, came a long pause, in which they just stood and watched each other. Hermione felt like she was seeing him for the first time. The man who kissed her like that had a new aura surrounding him. He still looked the same, but to her, he was somehow different.

She drew closer to him and kissed him again, while trying to keep their eye contact. This caused her eyes to cross, so she gave up the looking part and closed her eyes, relishing the input from all her other senses. The second kiss was just as sweet and fervent as the first one, but this time he was less gentle, and she felt her head beginning to spin. Hermione felt a need to stop for air, but he seemed prepared to continue, and she didn't want to miss any possible second of that kiss.

Their stroll never got as far as the lake. They just stood a few hundred feet from it, at the spot where they first stopped, kissing and looking at each other alternately.

After a long hour at that, they just stood there, holding each other as tightly as they could. Hermione's ribs groaned in protest, but she wondered if he could possibly hold any her tighter. She tried to sink wholly into his chest, and could hear his heart pounding strongly against her otherwise deafened ear.

The first tiny snowflakes of the season started drifting over their heads. These were small and light flakes of white feather-like samples of the first snow. The flakes did not wet them, nor did they penetrate their collars. They just settled gently over their hair and shoulders, and Viktor and Hermione paid them no heed.

Hermione wondered if being kissed always felt like this. This was her first experience, but somehow she had a feeling that this would have been special even if she had been kissed a thousand times before. Her thoughts drifted to the most horrible person she knew. No. There was no doubt. Being kissed by Draco Malfoy would never feel like this. Feeling a bit nauseated, she brought her thoughts back to Viktor. Back to her beloved, who was holding her tight.

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Hermione stalked towards the Gryffindor tower, careful not to make any noise that would attract either Filch or Mrs. Norris. The entire castle seemed asleep. The portraits all lay sleeping in their nightgowns and not a sound could be heard except for her own creaking shoes. If a flash of brilliance, Hermione pointed her wand towards her shoes, and made their sound as muffled as cat paws. Smiling to herself, she finally reached the portrait hall. She gently shook the fat lady, who frowned at her, but let her in anyway.

Hermione crept through the portrait hall into what she assumed would be the empty common room. She started along it, going towards the girls dormitories, when suddenly she saw something move. She let out a choked scream.

Harry jumped out of the overstuffed chair he was sitting in. He was so concentrated on trying to get the spell right, he didn't notice Hermione coming in. 

"What are you doing here?" They both asked as one.

Hermione gave Harry a meaningful look, and he blushed as understanding dawned on him.

"I'm just trying to master a spell," he said after he recovered.

"What spell?" asked Hermione. She didn't feel very sleepy, and learning a new spell seemed much more exciting.

"Oh, just something I wanted to surprise Ginny with," muttered Harry cryptically. "It doesn't matter anyway. I don't seem to get it right, and I don't want to cast on her a spell that might go wrong. She'd hate me forever."

Hermione smiled. The idea of Ginny hating Harry was absurd. She thought of the stupid grin Ginny always has when Harry was around. "Maybe I can help you with the spell," she offered. This wouldn't be the first time she helped him. "You can try it on me, and use it on Ginny only after you get it right."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Harry said, and slumped back into the chair.

"Why not?" Hermione pressed. "What spell is it anyway?"

Harry pointed at his Firebolt, slanted near the fireplace. He had one of his robes hanging on it. It seemed as if the broom was wearing one of Harry's robes. "It's the Cinderella spell," he said. Pointing his wand at the Firebolt, he said "_vulticulus cinderella_".

There was a small 'pop' and some white smoke rose from where the Firebolt stood. Harry's robe was gone, and instead, there was a wonderful white gown. It wasn't simply white. It was glowing like it was made of starlight threads. Golden brocade decorated the collar and the waist. Or at least Hermione thought it was the waist. It was hard to tell, because instead of covering the broomstick, where Harry's robes originally where, the dress was neatly laid on the floor, two feet away from its intended bearer.

"I see what you mean," said Hermione in to most serious tone she could manage. "Maybe you trying this on me isn't such a good idea after all." She could hold back no longer, and began howling with laughter.

Harry looked deeply insulted. "I don't see what's so funny," he growled. "If I use this on Ginny, she'll kill me."

"As well she should," Hermione tittered. "Maybe you should go for another spell to impress her. Try to get flowers out of the tip of your wand, or something."

"Any muggle magician can do that!" cried Harry.

"Well, she's of a wizarding family," argues Hermione. "She wouldn't know that." Looking at Harry's chagrined expression, she felt sorry for him. "Oh, maybe you should make her hair glow," she came up with something closer to Harry's original idea.

Harry's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea!" he said. "And if I get it wrong, the worst that can happen is that she get her hair dishevelled. I won't be causing her... Er... indecent exposure."

Hermione giggled. "That one I would let you try on me." She stood quietly, allowing him to concentrate.

Harry pointed his wand at her. "_Niteo capillus_" he whispered with intention.

At once, Hermione's hair was freed from the bands that were holding it tied in a ragged heap close to her skull. It flowed down her shoulders in wonderful waves that were a mixture of wet earth and copper threads. Her head and shoulders were enveloped in a golden glow. Her face shone in the golden light, giving the brown of her eyes a matching golden radiance. The few freckles on her nose and cheeks became distinct against the white of her skin, and her lips looked somehow darker red against the all-consuming glimmer.

Harry looked at her, his mouth open. He didn't expect the spell to work on the very first attempt, and even if it worked, he didn't expect it to have this stunning effect. This was such a beautiful site. _She_ was so beautiful.

"Harry, are you all right?"

"Eh?" said Harry. He just notices that Hermione was talking to him.

Hermione reached to him and touched his forehead. "Are you all right?" she repeated. "You feel normal. Was the effect this horrible?" she reached gingerly to her head, relieved to find that she still had hair at all. "Maybe you should stick to the flowers."

"Er... No..." said Harry in a dreamy voice. "This spell will do." He shook his head to recover. "Anyway, after the flowers you got today, I can't possibly create a bunch that will be any competition."

Hermione was abruptly reminded of the flowers waiting for her in her dormitories. She felt a sudden craving to see that bouquet again. "Well, if you don't need me any more, I'll go to sleep now," she said, and hurried up the stairs, not hearing Harry whisper her name.

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As they did every morning, Harry and Ron sat in the common room and waited for Hermione and Ginny to come down, so they could all walk to breakfast together. Ron and Hermione's lengthened silent period damaged the morning euphoria somewhat, but it didn't break the breakfast tradition.

Harry watched lovingly as Ginny went down the stairs. She was wearing a maroon robe that matched her eyes perfectly. Although the robe had seen better days, it still flowed around her curves as if it was part of her, just meant to magnify her beauty.

Harry loved everything about Ginny. He loved her red wavy hair. He loved her smell of fresh flowers. He loved the disoriented way about her before she fully woke up. He loved to talk to her. He loved to listen to her go on and on about her studies, just like Hermione did. He loved the way she looked at him when he talked...

No, actually that part he didn't love. As a matter of fact, he found that adoring gaze disturbing. She still looked at him the same way she did when she was eleven years old and just came to Hogwarts. That look that said, "you're the great Harry Potter. I am but your devoted slave."

This look gave him a creepy feeling. It made him feel like he was taking advantage of her under false pretence. Well, not exactly false, he was Harry Potter, but this was not how he wanted her. He wanted her love for who he was not who he was. The whole thing was just a little too confusing. It made him hesitate so much, that it took him three months just to kiss her for the first time, and he still felt restrained about kissing her. He didn't even dream about moving further before she could look at him differently.

As an act of chivalry, Harry let Ginny and Hermione go through the portrait hole first. Then he moved one leg over the hole and that was all he was capable of doing. His gaze became transfixed on Viktor Krum holding Hermione in a passionate kiss.

"What's wrong?" asked Ron, trying to push his way through. He managed to squeeze between Harry and the wall, and stayed there, watching the same spectacle as Harry.

"Hello, my love," said Krum once his lips were separated from Hermione's. "I haff vaited for you here a long time."

"I'm sorry," answered Hermione, her voice lost inside Krum's heavy robes, in which she buried her face.

Dean Thomas' voice came from inside the common room, breaking the charm that held Harry and Ron glued to the spot. "If you two are not enjoying yourselves too much, would you please clear out of the hole and let us out?" He sounded more than slightly amused.

Moving stiffly, Harry and Ron went out and stood with Ginny beside the newly found lovebirds. "What are you two looking at?" Ginny said, her mouth twisted in half a smile. "What did you think they were doing so late last night outside the castle? Discussing muggle protection activities? HA!" Her smile was no longer implied, and had a triumphant flare.

What was he thinking last night? Harry scolded himself. He saw what time she returned. The clock was already on "Much too late to be up". The mischievous look she had didn't just say 'I was out, having fun with Viktor.' It meant she really _had fun_. He placed a possessive arm around Ginny's waist, pulling her closer to him, but never taking his eyes off Hermione.

"We should guard that Krum," Ron whispered in his ear. "He's four years older than Hermione. He's already a man, and she is just a schoolgirl. We should make sure he's not taking advantage of her." Harry nodded in agreement. He felt better, knowing he had his eyes on Hermione only because he needed to protect her. He released his grip on Ginny's waist, but kept his hand in position.

Ginny felt Harry's hand grab her. Her legs nearly turned to jelly and refused to carry her weight. Luckily, Harry was holding her tight, his grip was supporting her as they walked through the halls of Hogwarts castle. She looked at him surprised. He hardly ever put a hand on her, let alone this type of masculine gesture. She usually feared he was slightly intimidated by her.

Ginny's face went pale when she realised who this grip really belonged to. Harry's eyes were fixed on Hermione. He could say she was his 'friend' from now until doomsday, there was nothing 'friendly' in his hungry look. Ron whispered a few words to Harry, and his hand released the pressure on he waist. Ginny found that she was again able to walk unsupported. _I'm taking this rather lightly_, she thought, wondering why. _I guess I've always known_.

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The five of them entered the Great Hall together. Harry, Ron and Ginny turned towards the Gryffindor table, but stopped as they noticed that Hermione and Krum were not with them.

"I haff to sit with the Slytherins, my love," Krum said, holding both of Hermione's hands. "Please come with me, although I vill understand if you vant to sit vid your friends."

Harry wanted Krum to take Hermione for granted. It fit the old-seducer mould so much better than this thoughtful man, begging Hermione to come with him. The look on Ron's face suggested that he wanted to place a hard punch in the middle of Krum's considerate face.

Hermione looked from Viktor's warm black eyes to the three red faces of her friends. "I'll see you in class," she muttered towards them, deciding to go with Viktor. She ignored the hissing voices when she approached the Slytherin table, hoping that their respect for Viktor would extend to include her.

Viktor stirred Hermione towards two empty seats near the head of the table. He pulled one of the chairs and waited for her to sit down. Hermione hesitated. Sitting with him by the Slytherin table was bad enough. Why did he have to pick a spot next to Malfoy? Eventually, she made up her mind. Malfoy wouldn't dare harm her while she was with Viktor. She sat down, her head raised, ready to have a lovely breakfast even if it killed her.

Unexpectedly, breakfast went quite well. Hermione was laughing with Viktor, listening to his stories about his last Wronski Feints. He had the ability to captivate everyone within earshot from him. He also made her feel very special, shooting private smiles at her in all the high-points of his stories.

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Hermione looked so happy with Krum. Harry wondered why he wasn't happy for her. Probably it was the fact that he just didn't feel Krum was right for his best friend. A sharp pain pierced through his heart. _Why do I feel so betrayed?_ he asked himself. _Probably because she was sitting next to Malfoy_, came the answer. _She was eating toast and enjoying herself, not giving her friends a second glance. So easy it was for her to switch positions._

At least Malfoy didn't seem to have such a good time. Harry watched him spinning a piece of toast around his index finger, not touching the food on his plate. He realised that they must look very much the same. I'm nothing like him, Harry thought, and stopped spinning his own toast. He turned towards his plate and watched the food on it, as though he wanted to out-stare it. He realised he couldn't win a non-blinking contest with an egg yolk and got up to leave.

"Wait up!" said Ron. "I'm not that hungry either." He looked towards the Slytherins table. "You think we should tell Hermione we're going to class?"

Harry gave him a dubious look. "She looks too busy. Come on, let's go." He pulled Ron by the sleeve of his robe. "We could use the extra time to get ready for Potions." He gave Ginny a 'see you later' kiss on the cheek, and they were off.

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Hermione stopped laughing at the last description of the crashed Spanish Seeker and looked around. She took her eyes off the Gryffindor table for jut one second, and now she couldn't find Harry any more. She couldn't see Ron either, for that matter. She suddenly lost interest in the piece of toast she was holding, and gently put it down on her plate.

"I must go to class," she told Viktor, caressing his arm.

"Than I vill come vid you," said Viktor, knowing it was impossible.

Hermione smiled. Her mind's image of Snape's face once he saw her go into class with Viktor was worth a good smirk. "I'll see you after class," she promised him with an overindulgent tone.

As Malfoy was in class with her, she looked in his direction, to see if he was going as well. What was mere curiosity on her side was interpreted as an invitation. Malfoy tossed the toast in his hand onto his untouched plate, and got up. He shot commanding looks at Goyle and Crabbe and turned to leave, knowing they would follow. 

The four of them did not leave the Great Hall together. Saying that would be an overstatement. They just left the Hall at the same time, keeping a safe few feet apart. They entered the Potions Dungeon the same way.

A/N: 

Well, that's it here. The rest of the series can be found in http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Deception . See you there! 


	2. Sobering

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 2**_

_Sobering_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Ron Nude D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Ron is running around in the nude (not as obscene as it sounds). Krum is still around, and there's more of Malfoy. Much more of him to come in the next chapter.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
Apology: Again, I over-did it. I don't know why, I just can't put my ideas in few words. I guess you'll just have to suffer quietly... Scratch that! Suffer noisily! R/R!!

aaaaaaaaaa

Ron seemed normal enough once he and Harry left the Great Hall. His fury seemed have subsided, and he was even able to hold a normal conversation about the Potion ingredients for the upcoming class.

The ingredients were especially important, since this was going to be a practical lesson. Snape had warned them in advance that they were going to try the Aging Potions they were going to brew on themselves. Ron busied himself lining up his flasks before the lesson began. The door to the class opened, and, looking up to see who was there, he dropped the one with the black beetle shells to the floor.

Draco Malfoy came in, but that wasn't the worst part. He came in with Hermione. Goyle and Crabbe came right behind them. Hermione didn't look at Malfoy when she stepped towards her cauldron, but it was obvious she walked with him from the Great Hall, where they sat side-by-side. It was also obvious Goyle and Crabbe were now her goons as well.

"Making new friends?" Ron broke the two weeks long silence between them with a venomous remark.

"Not really," said Hermione, and turned her back to him, showing sudden interest in her own flasks and jars.

Harry was just as surprised to see her walk in with Malfoy, but he knew she would never willingly spend more time with him than she had to. "Get off her, Ron," he said. "It's time you apologise to her and start talking to her again. I can see you miss her." As he saw Ron's shocked face, he added hastily, "As your friend."

Hermione turned to look at them. She didn't really want to look so eager, but she was too curious to see Ron's reaction. His miserable expression almost made her smile.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said with sincerity.

"Oh, and you think that's just going to make it all right?" Hermione said. She didn't mean to be harsh, but the large 'F' on her assignment was still burned on her retina.

"Er... I'll never take another assignment from you without your permission?" tried Ron.

Hermione looked at him, her mouth twisted to one side.

Harry looked at her surprised. He thought Ron's apology was exactly what she wanted. "There's not much more he can do," he said convincingly.

"Oh, yes there is," said Hermione with a devilish smile. "He can peel the slugs for my potion."

"Oh! Yuck!" called Ron. "You know I hate slugs, especially since that accident I had on the second year!" He felt Harry's elbow hard in his ribs. "All right," he said obsequiously. "Hand them over." He stretched out his hand, bowing his head low.

Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione joined him, not before Hermione placed a jar full of slugs in Ron's extended hand.

aaaaaaaaaa

This was the best Potions class Harry could remember. Hermione was helping him and Ron with their potions - none of them wanted to get a practical potion wrong. Snape was keeping his distance, and was satisfied with only giving Neville an occasional stern look.

"You think he's got some evil plan he's keeping for later?" asked Ron.

"Neh," said Harry, "he probably just knows who's Hermione's new boyfriend, and is afraid to do anything mean to her, or to us, for that matter."

Instead of calming dawn, Ron's features hardened. Harry wondered if he would have preferred an evil plan by Snape. If he did, than judging by the horrible grin that suddenly spread on Snape's face, he was about to get his wish.

"All right," said Snape. "Pour your potions into your goblets." He looked around to see that this order was carried out. "Good. Now, split into pairs. You will each drink your partner's potion. Hope to god that your partners knew what they were doing."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then looked at Hermione. It was obvious that each of them wanted to partner with her. Her potion was probably the safest one in the class. Before they could discuss the options, Snape appeared behind her, and grabbed her arm.

Hermione jumped, almost spilling the potion. "You're with Malfoy," Snape ordered, and steered her towards the Slytherin area.

"Figures," muttered Harry. "Let's hope that her help was enough to make our potions just as good." He handed his goblet to Ron, but the goblet met Snape's blocking hand in mid-air.

"No, I don't think so," Snape sneered. "Potter, you're with Longbottom. Weasley, you're with Thomas."

Dean Tomas' seemed to relax, which made Harry's agitation all the more evident. Not that he didn't like Neville, he just knew his talent with potions, or rather, lack of it. With a shaky hand he took Neville's goblet, and drained it in one gulp. He found comfort in the thought that whatever it was, it couldn't have been something Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix.

Harry watched Neville's face as it mature slightly. It seemed that the potion Hermione helped concoct was working properly. Neville looked about a year older, and with any luck, the potion was perfect, and he would turn back to himself within half-an-hour. 

Neville had his eyes fixed on Harry, the expression on his seventeen-year-old face turning rapidly to a horrified one. Harry was half-expecting that. He sat heavily on the chair, and felt his face with his hands. It didn't seem much different. His body felt different, though. His robes were suddenly very tight, and his shoes applied tremendous pressure on his feet. He bent to take them off, and his legs felt much longer. He reached to his shoes, but overdid the motion, his arms were longer as well. This felt very much like the time he took the Polyjuice Potion that turned him into Goyle.

After taking off his shoes, and finding his skin in a normal colour (maybe just a little red), Harry looked at Neville again. His horror was turning into deep depression. "What is it?" Harry finally asked. His voice sounded oddly deep in his ears.

"I think I put in too much Boomslang Skin," Neville said sadly.

"I didn't mean to ask what's wrong with the potion," Harry said patiently, ready to accept whatever it was. "I meant - what's wrong with me?"

"Oh," Neville said, looking even more dispirited than before. "You're... old." He looked at Harry, as if expecting to be punched or, Harry realised, expecting the adult in front of him to give him detention.

"How old?" Harry said in a voice that came out more intimidating than he had meant. He felt his face again. He couldn't feel any wrinkles under his fingers. He looked at his hands. They were large and had a somewhat darker tint than Harry was used to. The fingers were extremely long, like a pianist, only they lacked the delicacy required in that profession.

"Old," said Neville gravely. "Maybe even twenty-five or thirty."

A/N: none of us should take offence in Neville's statement. He's just a kid, he doesn't know any better.

Despite the way Neville was taking it, Harry was relieved. Spending some time as an adult seemed harmless, and hopefully, the effect would expire in less than thirty minutes. He sat back and relaxed, waiting for time to take its affect. His eyes fell on Hermione.

She was standing in the middle of a group of snickering Slytherins. She looked adoringly at Malfoy. Harry hoped that she was just admiring the results of her work. She looked about twenty. Malfoy probably used too much Boomslang Skin in his Potion as well. She was extremely beautiful. Like good wine, age became her.

Harry couldn't quite decide what exactly was the different about her, but there was a huge difference. This Hermione made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was her height. She grew a lot taller during the last year, but the potion made her grow at least two inches more. Her robes reached the middle of her ankles. Harry wondered how Ron would look under the influence of the potion. He hoped he wouldn't grow any more. Ron was tall enough as it was.

Harry tore his eyes away from Hermione and looked in the direction of Ron. Ron was not there. Where he had stood before, his robes were now hurled on the floor, moving as if something was trapped under them. Harry stared at it puzzled, and then realised what had happened. He rushed to him, and picked baby Ron up at about the same time Hermione got there.

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione looked at Draco as he drank the potion. She knew she brew it exactly right, but still was a little nervous before it was tested.

"I drank yours," Malfoy drawled. "Drink mine."

Hermione examined the goblet in her hand suspiciously. It looked the right colour, but it was Malfoy who gave it to her.

"It's not poisoned," he said, reading the expression on her face correctly. "I don't want to fail Potions."

This argument sounded reasonable to her. Hermione took a deep breath and sipped the potion drop after drop, looking out for unwelcome effects. It tasted like beetles soaked in mud, which actually was almost the case, but she didn't let herself gulp it to get over with it. When she was finally done, thankfully with no noticeable side effects, she sat down and waited, watching Malfoy as he slowly matured in front of her eyes.

Malfoy grew taller. Much taller. He wasn't short to start with, but now she needed to stretch her neck to see his face. His shoulders became broader, and a tear appeared in his designer robes. His features became even sharper than they had been, and his platinum-blond hair came down on a high chiselled cheekbone. _Not bad_, thought Hermione, liking the effect of her potion.

The way Malfoy looked at her indicated that his potion had started taking affect as well. His stunned expression did not tell her if there was something wrong with the potion, or if he was he just amazed that it worked.

"You look about a year older," she stated cautiously. The only response she got was a blank stare. "What did your potion do?"

"It's... you... Er..." Malfoy took a deep breath, and stopped stammering. _This potion has a very odd side effect on me_, he thought. He recreate something that looked like his normal smirk, but his voice, although deeper than normal, was quivering. "You're going to grow up from a buck to a giraffe," he said, trying to sound sneering. 

Hermione was so used to Malfoy's abuses, that his stutter embarrassed her. She looked around, and her eyes fell on the heap of robes that used to hold Ron. It was quite obvious to her what has happened. Dean Thomas' potion had a reverse effect. She rushed to Ron to see how bad it was.

As she reached for Ron, someone else picked him up. An adult man. She knew the man from the pictures in Harry's family album, but never thought she'd meet him face-to-face. She gasped and drew back. The man in the pictures was very impressive, but she never realised how powerful his actual presence could be. The room seemed somehow filled with his aura.

He was taller than she was, even though, as Malfoy had put it, she had turned into a giraffe. He had very large hands, and held baby Ron easily balanced on one of his palms. In a maternal instinct she picked up Ron's robes, and covered him. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach James's lap properly. She looked at him, seeking approval, and all she could see were his emerald green eyes, penetrating her very soul.

This wasn't James. The eyes were Lily's. This was - "Harry?" she asked weakly. It had to be Harry. Neville's potion must have aged him too much. He had Harry's robes on, reaching to his ankles, and no shoes. Miraculously, his robes didn't tear like Malfoy's had, although his shoulders where at least as broad as Malfoy's.

Without a word, Harry placed baby Ron in Hermione's lap, giving him a light stroke as he did. His hand brushed against hers, making a shiver pass through her. "Are you all right?" He asked in a deep, concerned voice.

His words achieved the exact opposite goal than he had meant. The deep voice permeated into her head, and concentrated in a quivering ball at the scruff of her neck. She felt the small hairs there bristle, and shivered again.

Harry watched Hermione trembling. He decided that although she was a woman, the baby was probably safer with him. He took the bundle from her, his hand brushing against the silk of her skin, and felt her sake again, or was it him this time?

"I think you'd better sit down," he told her. She was very pale, and looked in serious danger of fainting. Could Malfoy have put something toxic in the potion he gave her? Hermione embraced the idea, and staggered to the nearest chair.

Hermione sat stiffly, trying to figure out what just happened. She could feel the shadow of the baby's touch in her lap. She could feel a burning sensation where Harry's arm touched her. She took a deep breath and relaxed. _This isn't James_, she told herself. _This is Harry. I know Harry. He is the same inside, just looks temporarily different. Get a grip._

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry took Ron to Snape. He knew that Snape wouldn't like to help Ron, but he figured there wasn't much of a choice. He didn't know if Ron was aware of what was happening, but even if he was, it would be difficult for him to attend the day's classes like this.

Snape was with his back to him, trying to assess the damage to the Slytherins. There weren't any more seriously altered students. Their ages were something between twelve and twenty. No big deal.

"Professor?" Harry tried quietly.

Snape jumped two feet in the air, landing with his face to Harry, and his leg painfully in the corner of Millicent Bulstrode's counter. "J...?" Snape began, and than caught himself. His eyes shot black fire at Harry. "Potter," he spat.

"I think Ron needs an antidote," said Harry, ignoring the furious look on Snape's face. The Potions Master had no reason to be that angry with him. He was almost as furious as the time he had caught Harry sneaking to Hogsmeade.

"Take him to the hospital wing," said Snape, his gaze still threatening. "And for god's sake, stay there with him until you are restored."

"You mean until he is restored," said Harry.

"I know what I meant," spat Snape. "Just go there."

Harry left the class, feeling unpleasant warmth spreading on his sleeve where baby Ron was lying. He tucked Ron's robes beneath the baby and broadened his steps. Turning a corner, he came face to face with professor McGonagall. She stood in front of him, her mouth open, and then started to shake.

Harry didn't know what to do. McGonagall was always a model of stability to the entire Gryffindor house. He thought an explanation was in order.

"It's Ron. He's ok, I'm taking him to Madam Pomfrey. We had an experiment with Aging Potions in professor Snape's class today, and it went a little bad."

The explanation must have done the trick, because professor McGonagall stopped shaking. Her chin was still trembling, though. "I thought I've seen a ghost," he said softly.

"There are ghosts in the castle," said Harry, puzzled.

"Not that kind of ghost," McGonagall shook her head. "For goodness sake, go to the infirmary, and stay there until the potion wears off."

This was too close to what Snape had said. "Why?" asked Harry.

"You look a lot like your father," she said sadly, and then rushed off before he could say another word.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry doubled his steps to the hospital wing. Everyone was acting very strangely. He knew that Madam Pomfrey was not the type to ask any questions or to make any sentimental remarks. Not that McGonagall or Snape where, but she was also used to seeing the students at their worst.

As he expected, Madam Pomfrey let him in the infirmary without a word, although she did seem a bit pale. He quickly explained the situation to her, and the colour return to her face. She showed Harry to a bed, and ordered him to put Ron on it. With a wave of her wand she created a rail around the bed, preventing Ron from rolling over to the floor.

She examined Ron carefully, waving her wand up and down in front of him. Ron tried to grab the tip of the wand, complicating her job. When she was finished with him, she moved on to Harry.

"I'm fine," he said, trying to shake her off.

"I'll be the judge of that," said Madam Pomfrey, completely ignoring Harry's protest. She spent the next few minutes waving her wand in front of his face.

When she was finally done, Harry noticed Ron trying to climb over the rail of the bed, and jumped to stop him. Ron was still just a baby, but his head was now covered with red fluff, and he was heavier.

"He's maturing very rapidly," said Madam Pomfrey, looking very pleased. "You are getting better too, I think that you'll both be out of here for supper."

"But there's noting wrong with me," argued Harry. Surely Madam Pomfrey wouldn't make him stay there just to baby sit Ron. The baby started pulling Harry's socks, trying to remove them.

"Hey! That's enough," Harry said grouchily. "And keep your robes on! Hey! Where are you running! Come back! You'll catch a cold!"

Madam Pomfrey caught Ron and swung him in the air. "You're both staying here," she exclaimed. "Him, or his own good, and you - for everyone else's."

Harry looked at her shocked. "I'm not dangerous," he said.

"Dangerous? No. But people need to adjust. You do look a lot like your father." Harry thought he knew what she was talking about, but he still looked a bit perplexed. "There are a lot of people here who miss you father very much; me included," she finished with a sombre note.

Harry nodded, accepting her explanation. He was left alone with Ron, who just learned how to waddle, and practiced it by repeatedly escaping Harry's grip and reaching to the potions counter.

"If you don't stop that, I'm gonna let you drink that potion!" Harry threatened after Ron had grabbed the same ruby-red goblet for the fifth time. "And I have no idea what's that going to do to you!"

"Probably not much, unless he's suffering from Mandrake bites," Harry heard a familiar feminine voice behind him. He turned abruptly, Ron in his arms, causing him to spill the content of the goblet all over his loose robes. 

"I didn't mean to startle you," said Hermione, concealing a smile. She was almost back to herself, but Harry could still see the woman she was going to become in a few years.

"You look... better," he said, not knowing what he meant by 'better'. He liked the way the potion changed her.

"I brought you your shoes," she said, holding Harry's shoes for him. "You left them in Potions."

"Thanks,' said Harry. "It's nice that I won't have to go to Snape for them." He placed them aside, knowing that they still wouldn't fit. Ron stormed the shoes like they were sacks of Galleons. He started pulling the laces and trying to tie them together.

"He's cute," said Hermione. "Shouldn't he be wearing something?"

"You try," sighed Harry. "I'm just waiting for him to get a little older. Maybe he'll grow some sense too"

"I doubt that," Hermione laughed. She covered her mouth with her hand, "Oh, please don't tell him I said that!"

After waiting for a few more minutes, she remembered she had Herbology to attend. 'Don't worry,' she promised. 'I'll bring you an extensive summary, along with all the homework. You'll be able to catch up tonight.' With that, she was off.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry spent the rest of the morning watching Ron grow. Around noon, when Ron was about five, there was a sudden change in his expression. He looked at himself and turned very red, then he picked his dump beaten robes from the floor and wrapped them around himself.

"What happened?" he asked.

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Harry, trying to figure out how to explain an Aging Potion to a five-year-old.

"Potions, I was about to take Dean's potions, OH!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna kill Dean Thomas."

Hearing a small child chirping this threat with such seriousness made Harry laugh until his eyes watered. "In your condition, you can hardly give him a good kick," he managed to say between the howls of laughter.

"Ha, ha," piped Ron. He eyed Harry suspiciously, and then with more seriousness.

"You look a lot like your father, you know that?" He mused loudly.

After the awkward silence was over, Harry and Ron resolved to play games. They spent the entire afternoon playing Exploding Snap, which was even more of a special treat, since it annoyed Madam Pomfrey to great extent. They watched each other move closer in age to one another, and by dinnertime, the nurse was either satisfied with their age, or angry enough to send them off, looking even more relieved than the boys.

They were both very hungry, having eaten only sandwiches and chocolate for lunch, but they both lost their appetite the minute they set foot in the Great Hall. They saw Hermione sitting at the Slytherin table, laughing with that over-grown boyfriend of hers and his sly Slytherin peers. This sight made their stomachs suddenly shrink to a non-digesting size.

They left the Great Hall, each going his own way – Harry went to the Gryffindor common room to practice the spell he was preparing for Ginny for tomorrow's ball. Ron went to snoop around the Ravenclaw dormitories, to see if he could still find a date for that ball.

They both spent an unpleasant, though fertile evening. Harry felt he had the glowing hair spell well under control, although he wished he could test it on Hermione one more time. Ron set a date with Padma Patil, again, knowing that this will be the third year in a row that he and Padma will enter the Great Hall together, and forget about each other immediately after their grand entry. Both boys went to bed with hearts full with worries, and in complete contradiction, empty stomachs.

aaaaaaaaaa

A high, shrewd voice woke Harry up. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. The voice, which had been very clear in his ears just moments earlier, was beginning to dissolve along with his dream. Nightmares where a regular thing in Harry's life, and he often woke up after witnessing Voldemort spread his horrors Usually he was drenched in cold sweat, and biting his lips to avoid screaming.

Harry never got used to these nightmares. He was actually more afraid of getting used to them than of the dreams themselves. But he had no reason to worry. He wasn't even one step closer to accepting torture and death than he had been the day Cedric Diggory had died.

But this was no regular vision of Voldemort's atrocities. For one, his scar didn't hurt as badly in it usually did. It did have a nudging sore sensation, but it wasn't pain. There were other, less tangible differences. The dream didn't feel quite as real as his past visions, although it disappeared the same way. Harry lay back on his pillow, smiling broadly. Of course. This wasn't a vision. This was a perfectly ordinary bad dream. A simple bad-dream was good. It meant no one had actually died.

As Harry lay in bed, his eyes open and a happy smile on his face, the images of the dream came back him, slowly taking away his smile. Voldemort was in his dream. He kept saying the same words: "_morsmorde corpus sculper_" and touched Harry's arm with his wand. Now that Harry remembered it, he felt a sting in his forearm, where the dream wand had touched it.

Harry peeled his sleeve off carefully, and looked at his arm. On the skin above the centre of the pain was a shapeless red mark. It looked like a large mosquito bite, but Harry knew better. There were no mosquitoes in Hogwarts. Especially not in the winter. He rubbed the soaring stain, watching it change its colour to white when his fingers pressed on it.

Harry held his arm in front of his eyes, wondering if this could have been a spider bite. He didn't mind spiders very much, having grown up with a bunch of them in his cupboard, but he knew that those creatures should be taken very seriously in the magical world. He had learned that in his second year, when he met with Aragog in the Forbidden Forest. For several minutes Harry felt the stinging sensation slowly fade away, and with it, the mark was gradually disappearing. Eventually, the mark was gone, and Harry went back to sleep, thinking nothing more of it.

aaaaaaaaaa

Christmas was a day of traditions at Hogwarts. It began with the customary opening of the Christmas gifts, which were basically the same gifts every year. Especially the ones from the Weasleys. Then, it was time for a magnificent Christmas breakfast, followed by some recreation in the common room (except for Hermione who broke her Christmas-morning studying tradition and went somewhere with Krum). Christmas lunch wasn't something to disparage. Even Hermione and the Slytherins couldn't spoil this one for Ron and Harry.

Harry spent the meal pampering Ginny, convincing her to eat something. Ginny spent the meal trying to keep her mouth closed of fear that she wouldn't fit into her new dress robes. Ron went over to the Ravenclaw table to sit with Padma. He felt he should be nice to her, this being their third Yule ball together. Anyway, the Ravenclaw table was closer to the Slytherin table, and he could almost hear what Hermione and Krum were talking about.

After lunch, everyone who was still able to move went outside for the traditional Christmas snowballs fight. The snowball throwing was very quickly turned into a competition between the houses. Gryffindors were throwing balls on Hufflepuffs, Hufflepuffs were throwing snow on Ravenclaws, and Ravenclaws returned the honour to the Gryffindors. Only the Slytherins were left to throw snowballs on themselves.

At some stage, Harry decided to try to include Hermione in their game. She had thrown some symbolic balls in his direction, but so far he had ignored her. If she chose to play with the Slytherins, than she should boil in her own stew. After a while, though, he felt sorry to see Hermione's distress, and decided to cheer her up with one small white token. She bent down at the last minute, and the ball went past her, right into Draco Malfoy's face. Draco immediately retaliated with a snowball that missed Harry, and got Lavender Brown instead.

From there, everything turned into a blur of white balls flying through the air. The friendly fight turned into a furious contest between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The smart Ravenclaws and hard-working Hufflepuffs gradually edged away from the line of fire, and continued with the harmless games on the other side of the Quidditch pitch.

Most of the girls retired to the dormitories long before it was dark. When the last rays of the sun shone over the school grounds, the boys retired as well, partly because they thought they couldn't get the boys of the rival house any wetter, and partly because it was difficult to throw well with their sleeves turning into ice cubes. They all went to join the girls in their preparations for the ball.

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione awoke up on Christmas morning feeling very lightheaded. She spent the previous evening in the library with Viktor. He knew the answer to every question she had, and with his help, she had already finished her Christmas chores. All she had to look for was a day with him.

Getting out of bed, Hermione almost tripped over her Christmas presents. She was so enthusiastic about getting ready to meat Viktor that she nearly forgot about them. 

The small pile contained very predictable gifts. Hermione dug in there until she found what she was looking for, right at the bottom. Viktor had left her a small package, wrapped in glimmering gold.

She tore the wrapping with some difficulty, and found a small beautiful wooden box inside. The box was cherry-brown, with ancient-looking black carvings. Hermione opened the box gently. Inside, resting on magenta- coloured plush, was a thin golden necklace with a pendant that looked like a simple white stone.

There was a note attached to the box. Hermione took it out and read Viktor's tidy, curled handwriting. It said:

An emotions recorder with only the shadow of my feelings for you. Put it on your lovely neck, and think of me.

Love, Viktor

Hermione took the delicate necklace out of the box. She expected the stone to pull the necklace down, but it was surprisingly light. It hovered about the necklace like it was completely waitress. She placed it over her head, and was forced to sit down on her bed.

A wave of feelings washed over her. She felt a strong love, with no particular subject to that love. She remembered what the note said - "think of me". She tried to concentrate on Viktor. A flow of faced rushed through her head - Harry, her parents, Ron, McGonagall... Then she was able to visualised Viktor's face.

She leaned backward until she was lying on her back, and let the sweet sensation take over all her senses. The feeling was overwhelming, and she suddenly felt a strong craving to be with him. She hurriedly put some clothes on, and rushed out of her room, down the stairs, past the empty common room and through the portrait hall. She was determined to find Viktor.

Her task couldn't have been easier. In her hurry, she ran straight into his open arms, as he was waiting for her right outside the portrait hole. She jumped back with a start, but when she saw whose arms these were, she threw herself back into his embrace, shivering with gratification. 

"I thought you vould open your presents right about now," he said softly, holding her tightly against her shiver. He reached to the necklace, and gently removed it from her neck.

Hermione was jerked back to reality the minute the white stone left her skin. The events of the last few minutes looked like a dream to her. A particularly sweet dream, but unreal all the same.

"What is this?" she asked, still shaken.

"An emoplifier. You can record your feelings on it vith the specified spell. Whoever puts it on vill feel vhat you had at the time of the recording. I thought ov you when I used the recording spell on it." He suddenly looked timidly at her. "Do you like it?"

"Like it?" said Hermione with shiny eyes. "It's wonderful! I've never felt anything like it!"

He suddenly looked very sad, and Hermione realised what she had just said. "I mean, never had these feelings because of an object," she hurriedly correct herself.

Viktor smiled, accepting her explanations. He calmly led the way towards the Great Hall for Christmas breakfast, but for Hermione, the damage was done. She knew that the correction was only to appease his mind. The truth of the matter was that she didn't have the same feelings for him, or for anyone.

She tried to comfort herself, thinking that her emotions don't have to be of the same intensity to be real. But she wasn't convinced. She remembered the faces that flashed through her head before she was able to concentrate on Viktor. Her family, Harry, Ron - of course they were there, they where her best friends, but even professor McGonagall came before him.

She sneaked a quick glance at the one who should have been her lover when he wasn't looking. Maybe being a great kisser wasn't everything. Or maybe, she mused, the order of the people she saw in the light of the emoplifier didn't really matter. She did see Harry even before her family, and he was just her friend, just like Ron. Or was he?

Hermione stopped walking, and when Viktor turned to see what was wrong, she initiated a passionate kiss with him, trying to chase any other thought from her head. It worked like magic. They stood by the door to the Great Hall for several minutes, entangled in a long, mind-overtaking kiss, completely oblivious to the students who went giggling past them. They only broke the kiss when Hermione's legs could no longer hold her. Viktor supported her all the way to the Slytherin table, allowing her to gradually walk on her own once again.

When breakfast was over, Hermione showed no hesitation in following the Slytherins to their common room. She walked inside, her fingers interlaced with Viktor's, holding on to him just slightly firmer than necessary.

Harry and Ron visited the Slytherin common room briefly on their second year at Hogwarts. They gave Hermione a very detailed description, so nothing in the room surprised her. Still, the high-backed carved chairs, the green lamps hanging on their chains of silver snakes, and the eeriness of the dungeon made her feel even more out of place.

Hermione didn't realise how frightened she really was of being in the Slytherin sanctuary, until the stone wall closed behind her. She let Viktor stir her to a chair by the fireplace, and sat on it, her back stiffer that the wooden back of chair. She stared intensely at the carved mantelpiece, trying to ignore the rest of her surrounding. She didn't know how long she sat like that, holding Viktor's hand, studying every feature of the mantelpiece. She did know that the Slytherins around, in an odd gesture of consideration, gave her time to adjust.

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco looked gloomily at the Mudblood girl as she desecrated the sacredness of the Slytherin common room. In all of Hogwarts year, no Mudblood had ever set foot in there. He watched the invader through narrowed eyes. Her pretty face was twisted in a terrified expression. This was good. This is the way Mudbloods should always look. Terrified. Her fear made her look less pretty, which was also very good. Draco didn't like the untamed ideas that came into his head when she looked her best.

Still, he felt he owed her boyfriend enough to at least try and make her comfortable as long as she was with him. Once Krum got his senses back, he'd get back at her. Get back at her for sitting in the pureblood sanctuary. Get back at her for making him act nicely to her. Get back at her for the horrible thoughts she put in his head. Thoughts took no consideration in pure bloodlines whatsoever.

aaaaaaaaaa

The first to address Hermione after her muscles started to relax was Draco Malfoy. He did it more for Viktor than for her, that was certain. She turned to him, knowing that he spoke, but she not hearing the words. He sat some distance from the fireplace, opposite of her and Viktor. The fire glowed on his face, giving him a darker semblance and making his hair look like it was made of the finest sterling.

"I asked if the flowers are still in good condition," he repeated.

"Oh, yes, they're wonderful. Spreading light and music all over the girls dormitories." She gave Viktor a thanking smile, and then turned to smile at Malfoy the same way, thanking him for not saying anything nasty to her.

"Doesn't that make it hard to fall asleep?" asked Pansy Parkinson with an interested expression.

"Not really," Hermione said pensively. " The colours and humming adjust themselves to the surrounding. When we get into beds, the lights turn into soft indigo, and the flowers hum a lullaby. It's very pleasant, actually. I don't know how I'll go to sleep without it when the flowers are no longer fresh."

"Don't worry, my love," Viktor squeezed her shoulder. "Ve vill just have to make sure you alvays haff fresh humming geraniums." He gave her a loving smile. His smile reminded her of the emoplifier, and she felt a pinch in her chest. Was she being fair to him? Should she talk to him about her doubts? Not today. Not on the day of the ball.

aaaaaaaaaa

The rest of the morning went rather pleasantly. Hermione became somewhat accustomed to the colours and shadows of the Slytherin common room, and they no longer intimidated her. The Slytherins themselves were civil to her, even Malfoy. She didn't care that the only thing keeping him from putting a curse on her was Viktor's arm around her shoulders. What mattered was that he didn't pull out his wand.

They all went together for lunch, and then went outside to play in the snow. In the beginning, they all threw snowballs at each other, and then Hermione felt something new. For the first time, she felt the isolation of the Slytherin house. The feeling of not really being accepted by the other houses of Hogwarts. Every student of the other houses ignored the group of Slytherins, who, so to speak, turned a cold shoulder to the other three quarters of the school.

This was a new notion. She actually felt sympathy towards the outcast Slytherins. She formed a large snowball and threw it at Harry. She won't let him ignore her. But he did. Her snowballs caught him one after the other, and were not returned. She was almost desperate when she saw a familiar spark in Harry's eye, and the snowball in his hand flew in her direction.

She was so grateful to him, that she wanted to let the snowball get her, but her instincts made her bend down at the last minute. Harry's ball got Draco Malfoy instead. She was sure Malfoy would be furious and try to curse Harry, but he didn't. Before he twisted his face into an ugly scorn, she could just see the spark of delight pass through his eyes. For a fraction of a second, his eyes were warm azure. Then, they turned back to their ice-cold as he worked to retaliate.

The snow-fight that developed was more than Hermione intended. The Slytherins and Gryffindors were way too serious about getting each other covered with snow, but it was still fun. Sometime in the afternoon, she decided to go to her dormitories, to get ready for the ball. She wasn't practiced in beauty charms, and didn't want to get it wrong. She also needed quite some time to get into her complicated new dress robes.

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A/N:

I didn't realise so many of you liked Krum. OK, don't worry. I have the PERFECT match for him once Hermione dumps him. This is a first, I think, and once you see it, you'll just know they're meant for each other. You'll have to wait for the next chapter though. 

18


	3. Branded

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 3**_

_Branded_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Dark-Mark Yule-Ball D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Draco Malfoy gets the badge and the girl. Don't worry H/Hr fans, the game is not over yet, even though Harry finds himself in the middle of some rough action.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
HPRules: Oh! Thank you! Thank you! Of course this is a soap! I don't know how I haven't seen it before. Well, I know how but if I say I don't watch soap you're not gonna believe me anyway, so I'm not even going to try. Thanks to you, I'm no longer embarrassed about anything I write here. All is allowed, because this is soap! It doesn't matter that I actually think Hermione is perfect for Ron, and that Harry should be with Ginny. This is soap! And it doesn't matter that for all I care, the only good thing Draco can do is drop dead! This is soap! I'm also allowed to write Hermione as a hormone-controlled-damsel-in-distress 'cause this is SOAP! You liberated me!

More thanks at the bottom.

To all of you who are wondering: No, I'm not going to exempt Malfoy from responsibility to his deeds in the first four books just because his father abused him. In this story, it just doesn't work this way. Anyone who cares for a more elaborate explanation is invited to mail me, and I'll be happy to let you know why.

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Harry ran up the dormitory stairs two steps at a time. He was wet, he was cold, and he was afraid that if he didn't take his robes off quickly, someone would be able to use _him_ as a snowball.

He stripped down to his wet cold boxer shorts, throwing his robes recklessly in the middle of the room. He took his forest-green dress-robes with him and went to the shower. The hot water that poured down on him tingled at his toes. He felt his body gradually defrost, starting at the tips of his fingers and toes and moving inwards. He let the hot water run freely on his body, emptying his mind of any thought.

A strange feeling in his forearm made Harry snap out of his untamed delight. Abruptly, he was reminded of the dream he had had the night before. The pain in his arm was now more vivid, but in some odd way, it felt like it was always there. He brought it up to his eyes and was troubled to see that the red mark that had appeared on his arm during the night was now back. But it was no longer a shapeless red blotch. Vermilion lines contoured against his skin, forming the shape of an oval, with something long coiling out of its lower side.

The mark looked shockingly familiar to Harry, but this couldn't have been. He rubbed it with intensity under the running hot water and looked at it again. The contour was gone. It probably only existed in his imagination. There was just a red mark on his arm - a somewhat lopsided oval. Just an insect-bite, nothing more to it. If it didn't go away by the next day, he'd ask Madam Pomfrey for a lotion to cure it.

Pushing the bugging stain away from his thoughts, Harry put on his dress-robes. He stood in front of the mirror and tried to put some order in his stubborn hair.

"It's useless, son," said the mirror. "Nothing but magic would help it."

"I don't use magic to look good," Harry said, irritated. He left the showers room with his hair still looking like it had just gone under a not-very-well-coordinated lawnmower.

Harry felt under his hair for his scar. It was perfectly normal. No pain, no throbbing, nothing was wrong with it. He ordered himself to relax. A little skin infection never killed anyone.

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The Gryffindor common room was filled with boys in fine dress robes. The girls where nowhere to be seen. This was the way the world had always worked. No matter if you are a wizard or a Muggle, as long as you were a male, you would always wait for your date. Tensing, not knowing if something had happened to her, or if she had just come to her senses and had decided not to go with you after all.

Ron went outside to meet Padma, leaving Harry to wait for Ginny in the common room. For an unexplainable reason, Ron was just as nervous as the rest of the boys. He explained it to himself by not wanting to go to the ball alone. At least he had reasonable dress robes Fred and George got him last year. The robes were a tad too small for him now, but it wasn't very obvious.

Padma wasn't there yet. Krum, on the other hand, stood beside the portrait hole, his face wrinkled with unconcealed strain. Ron spent his wait glaring at him. He still didn't like the idea that the twenty-year-old Durmstrang alumni took his best friend to the ball, even if he did use to be his favourite Quidditch player. That didn't give him the right to take advantage of his status to seduce young girls. Or was that what he was doing? Hermione didn't care much for Quidditch. She was smart, she usually could take care of herself. She was also very pretty, and he was nowhere near as good-looking as she was. What was she doing with him? She would have been better off with Ron, but she wasn't interested in him. Best-friends and all...

Padma's arrival broke his train of thoughts. She was wearing, as usual, marvellous bright turquoise robes. She knew why she stuck with that colour. It matched her dark eyes and black hair perfectly. She looked like a designer jewel, only larger.

"Where's Parvati?" She asked Ron with no preliminary greeting.

Ron wasn't impressed or insulted by her direct approach. "She wasn't down when I came out. Do you want to wait for her a while longer?"

Padma looked from Ron to Krum with boredom. "Yes, I guess we should." She leaned one shoulder against the wall, folded her arms, and looked ready for a long silent wait.

Ron sighed, and then did the same.

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Harry spent the wait trying to help Neville undo a muscles growing charm he had put on himself. He wanted just to make his dress robes look less like they were hanging on him, and more like they were actually worn, but he overdid it. He looked a lot like a squashed down model of Mr World. Harry felt that it was time well spent, because even though he wasn't able to help Neville, he gained a light start for the evening.

A red head was barely visible above the masses coming down from the girls' dormitories. Harry smiled. Only one girl in Gryffindor had such wonderful red hair. His girl. Ginny. He suddenly felt very proud to be going with her to the Ball. She was definitely the brightest, bravest, prettiest girl in Gryffindor, and thus, in the entire school. Except maybe Hermione, but Hermione wasn't exactly a 'girl', was she?

Harry pushed through the crowds and gently grabbed Ginny by the arm. She smiled at him and tried to lead the way to the portrait hole, but he stopped her.

"I have something for you," he whispered in her ear. He stirred her towards the large mirror hanging on the opposite wall from the hearth.

"Aren't you a handsome couple!" chirped the mirror.

"Wait till you see this," Harry said, not knowing if he told that to Ginny or to the mirror. He positioned Ginny in front of the mirror, and stood right behind her, looking at their reflection. They did make a handsome couple. Her blood-red robes looked perfect with his green. He concentrated, pointed his wand to her hair and said, "_niteo capillus_," just the way he had practiced it.

Immediately, Ginny's hair was lit up with the light of a thousand fairies. It didn't make her red hair look like it was just on fire. The effect was extremely impressive. It looked like tiny fires were entwined into her hair the same way due droplets were trapped in soft grass. Her whole face was lit up with deep carmine light. Her blue eyes sparkled like beads in the see of red.

"It's beautiful!" Ginny breathed. She leaned her head against Harry's chest, but did not take her eyes off the mirror. Harry held both her shoulders in his hands and looked critically at the result. She was beautiful, but there was something missing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As they looked in the mirror, they could see someone coming from behind them. Harry turned around to face Hermione. She was wearing light lilac floaty robes that were hovering around her, fitting her body, and then moving away. Harry was sure he missed a heartbeat. With a pang, he realised what was wrong with the spell he had put on Ginny - she just didn't look like Hermione.

"Oh!" Hermione called with admiration. "I see that you were able to master the spell after all! Ginny, you're beautiful!" There was no artificial flattery in Hermione's voice. She was really impressed with the way Ginny looked.

Ginny scanned Hermione. It always amazed her how different she looked with her hair pulled backwards. If it were she, she'd always arrange her hair like that. She had told this to Hermione more than once. Harry's reaction to Hermione made her feel like an unexpected Bludger caught her in the stomach, but she gave him a well-practiced smile.

"Your dress is amazing," Ginny told Hermione. "Where do you get these amazing cloths?"

Hermione blushed slightly, the colour of her cheeks transcending the light pink of the dress. "This is just silk with a few mild levitation charms," she answered.

Ginny opened her eyes wide. "You mean you charmed the dress?"

Hermione nodded, a timid smile on her lips. "Always have," she said sheepishly. "Third year in a row. If you want, I can charm your dress as well, but I don't think it's such a good idea."

"Why not?" asked Ginny, looking down on her heavy robes, flowing in red waved around her.

Hermione kept a strait face. "Well, with this hair, if your dress is also charmed, boys are going to drop around you like flies. You're going to be declared a health hazard." She smiled broadly, and Harry couldn't hold back the thought that passed through his head many times in the past two years.

"You really owe Malfoy a lot," he said without thinking.

"What?" both Hermione and Ginny said together.

"The teeth," explained Harry. There was no way to take his words back now. "You got them straightened thanks to him. This is so much better." He made a small gesture with his hand towards her teeth.

"Oh, right," Hermione smiled, letting her teeth show with all their splendour. She blushed again, and turned her head aside. "Well, I think Viktor is waiting for me outside," she said, and hurried out.

Ginny took another pleased look in the mirror, gave Harry a thankful kiss on the cheek, and was ready to leave too. Harry didn't feel like going out right after Hermione. He'd rather let her reunion with Krum be over before he saw them. Their reunions were too steamy for his stomach. They made it turn over, and gave him a general sick feeling. He didn't want that now. Instead, he held Ginny, spreading delicate kisses over the top of her head, taking handfuls of her sparkling hair, sniffing and kissing it. This filled him with warmth. He always loved the smell of her hair.

When they finally went out through the portrait hole, Krum and Hermione must have finished kissing, because the corridor outside was completely empty. They made their way towards the Great Hall, Ginny pushing Harry to move faster. In the absence of Triwizard champions, the school Prefects and head-boy and girl were expected to direct the banquet along with their dates. Ginny was afraid that they were running late, and as a Prefect, she didn't like being late.

It turned out Ginny's fears were in place. The Head Boy, Head Girl and all the other prefects were waiting for them along with their partners and professor McGonagall. They joined the waiting line, panting from their last burst of run.

Harry was relieved to see that Hermione was not all over Krum for a change. He glared at Malfoy, certain that father had bought his way to being a Prefect just like he had bought his son's way into the Quidditch team. Malfoy glowered right back at him with a look that undoubtedly said, "you're jealous."

The doors to the Great Hall were opened, and a shoal of students went through them. Several minutes later, the prefects followed McGonagall to the top table. As the two Gryffindor prefects, Ginny and Hermione had adjoined seats, with only Harry between them. Harry didn't know if he was glad for sitting next to Hermione, or if sitting next to her and Krum made him want to cry.

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Draco wore his black velvet dress robes, and waited. There was still time until the Yule ball. Pansy wouldn't be ready until the very last minute - he knew her. If their families weren't this close, he would have never taken her to the ball. He held a strong dislike towards her.

Draco stood in front of the mirror in his dormitories and ran a hand through his platinum blond hair, smiling in satisfaction. Pansy was very lucky to have him as her partner. She was even luckier, because she was going to be right in the centre of events, as the partner of a Prefect. His smile broadened. There were advantages to being a Prefect. There were advantages to being a _Malfoy_.

He went to his dormitories to pass the time there. No way he was going to wait in the common room with the rest of the students. When it was certain that Pansy was down, he would go. The dormitories were completely abandoned, and Draco passed the time lying on his bed, thinking.

He had detailed plans for him and Pansy for tonight. True, he didn't like her, but she was pretty, and that was what mattered. They were both over sixteen now, this was the night of the ball. This was going to be the first time for both of them. He was sure there would be no problem talking pansy into it. Actually, she was the one who tried to pressure him into a 'mature' relationship. 

Pansy was waiting for him in the common room, prettier than ever in her frilly shocking-pink robes. She could have easily been the prettiest girl in the school if it weren't for her patronising smile and the annoyed look she gave Draco. He smiled and extended his hand to her, knowing that she didn't like to be the one who did the waiting.

She took his arm in a possessive gesture. _Oh, yes. This is going to be a great night_. Draco led her through the entrance wall, past the dungeons, and up to the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall gathered all the honoured students around her, but there was one couple missing. The horrible Weasley girl, and her famous boyfriend. They needed to be last, to make an impressive entry.

As if they could make a more impressive entrance than Viktor Krum. Of course everyone would be eyeing the world famous Quidditch hero. And he had the most beautiful girl on his arm to add to the impact. Hermione held herself like this only once a year, for the Yule ball. She took his breath away when he looked at her. He remembered that she usually looked different for the ball, but the year that had passed dulled the memory, and he was again amazed by the change in her. By the look on the faces of the other boys around, he was not the only one caught off guard. 

At last, the brave couple arrived, pretending to be running. Draco ignored them. He wouldn't give Potter the pleasure of getting his attention just because he got there last. Still, he smiled to himself. The illustrious Gryffindor seeker. The Quidditch captain. At least he wasn't a Prefect. Draco knew that Potter was jealous of him for that.

The Slytherin prefects were right at the end of the honoured students line. That figured, since the group was led by the Gryffindor head of the house. Draco snorted when he saw Potter put on his embarrassed-by-the-crowd act again. Seriously, all the times he had everybody's attention, he should have developed a new act by now. Draco himself strutted into the Great Hall, his chin up and his hand holding Pansy by the elbow. 

The Slytherins sat at one end of the top table, while the Gryffindors were placed on the other end. Whoever made the sitting arrangements knew better than to put Slytherins next to Gryffindors. Draco didn't know if he should have been glad for not sitting next to Potter, or saddened by the fact he wasn't next to Hermione - next to Krum, that is.

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The food was as wonderful as ever. Harry was hungry, as he kept missing meals during the last two days - since Krum had appeared. Hermione was nowhere near Slytherins now. She was sitting next to him, and Harry felt his appetite return.

The professors were having an animated conversation, reliving the Triwizard feast from two years before. Two seats were vacant at the staff section of the table. One was Snape's, which wasn't a big surprise. He had gone missing for weeks at a time during the last year and a half. The other vacant seat was preserved to Madam Pomfrey, who was known to skip meal and events when she got overexcited by her work. 

When the clatter of the dished subsided and the only ones who still ate were Crabbe and Goyle, Dumbledore gave everyone the key to stand up, and removed the tables, clearing the floor for the dancing. Then, he conjured the platform for the band and signalled the for it to come up. This year, they were The Charmed Oaks, who wore the same artfully torn black robes and overgrown hair, and looked to Harry as the exact duplicates of the Weird Sisters and the Role of Karma of the previous years.

Harry knew exactly what would happen now. Ginny and the other honoured students were supposed to start dancing first, which meant he was supposed to start dancing first. Two years ago, they were only four couples, and this year they were ten. This was better. Harry sighed as he rose from his chair. At least one year he was exempt from this obligation. Last year Ginny wasn't a Prefect yet.

The music played by the Charmed Oaks was pleasant, and holding Ginny in a dance felt good. This position in the centre of the dance floor also allowed Harry to keep an eye on Hermione, to make sure Krum was not taking advantage of her. Harry began to really enjoy himself when he saw Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stirring towards Krum and Hermione, and beginning to exchange humorous remarks with them. Both couples were having trouble coordinating their steps due to the gales of laughter.

"Would you like some punch?" Harry asked Ginny over the sound of the music.

Ginny nodded. She decided that anything would be better than dancing here with Harry, feeling his arms on her, knowing that in his mind he was holding someone else. She gave the 'someone else' a final disturbed look, and followed Harry off the dance area.

A long line formed in front of the punch table. Harry stood in the line, then filled up two large goblets, and turned to walk back to Ginny. As he turned, he saw Hermione coming over with Malfoy. There was no Krum around, nor was a Pansy Parkinson. Just she and Malfoy, and they were approaching the punch table exchanging amused looks, whispering to each other.

Harry offered Ginny her goblet, and stood holding his, unable to drink due to the large angry lump that blocked his throat. He glared at Hermione and Malfoy as they helped each other fill two goblets each, and then they walked away with them.

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Draco had a wonderful evening. The food was great, and the first dance with Pansy was a cheering experience. She moved as well as she looked, which made them easily the best looking couple on the dance floor. He stirred them closer to Krum and Hermione, making their light movements all the more visible next to the duck-legged flight master.

They exchanged a few casual remarks, and than Draco suggested that Krum dances one dance with Pansy. They both agreed, Krum looking less enthusiastic than polite. They carefully held each other's hands, and started dancing in small, calculated steps. 

"Are we supposed to dance too?" Draco asked Hermione as they watched their partners with each other.

Hermione did something Draco never saw her do before. She smiled a patronising smile. "I don't think so," she said. "I'm going to get some punch."

"I'll get some too," said Draco. He felt compelled to prove that he wasn't abandoned alone on the dancing area.

Hermione looked at him, the smile still on her face. "If it weren't for Viktor, you'd put a curse on me," she said bitterly.

"Me? Curse you?" said Draco artlessly. "Never!"

Hermione's resentful smile turned into an amused grin. Draco gave her his most charming smile. If she was going to be with Krum, he might as well start being nice to her.

This was the first time Hermione saw Malfoy without a sneer. _He's rather handsome when he's not so self-conscious_, she thought. That gave her one more reason not to want to be a Slytherin. That lot always had something to be indignant about. _Probably the reason why they were all so ugly_.

As an act of chivalry, Draco helped Hermione fill the goblets for her and for Krum. Then, as an act of feminism, he let her help him fill up _his _goblets. Actually, both goblets were for Pansy. He wanted to keep a very clear head for tonight, although he didn't mind Pansy drinking a lot.

Krum and Pansy were waiting for them at the edge of the dancing floor. They had stopped dancing, and were talking, keeping more than a comfortable distance between them. They seemed uneasy in the company of each other, and they both looked very relieved to see their partners return.

Draco couldn't help but smile at the thought that in addition to all his virtues, Krum also had a good taste in girls. He made his smile look like it was aimed at Pansy. He handed her one goblet, and watched her while she drank. When she was done, he refilled her goblet from the liquid in his own, pretending to only give her some, but actually pouring in all his punch.

Krum and Hermione drank from each other's goblets, their arms linked in a complicated gesture. They both giggled madly, punch flowing down their chins. Draco watched them nauseated, his imagination carrying them further than these giggles. She was like a delicate floating flower, and he resembled an introgression between a duck and a moose. So elegant on his broom, and yet so ungainly once his feet touch the ground. They really didn't look right for each other. Draco went to get Pansy's punch refilled.

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There was no point it trying to keep a conversation with Ron. Harry tried to talk to him, changing the subject rapidly to find something that might get Ron interested, but the tall redhead kept glaring at Hermione, Krum, Malfoy and any other Slytherin that went by.

They stood close to the punch table, as Ron insisted that this was the best position to keep an eye on things. Padma had gone to sit sulkily by her twin sister, and Ron had only his punch to refill every time Malfoy went by. On the sixth time he went spying, taking his goblet with him, Harry decided that he had had enough. He took a very cooperative Ginny to the garden gate.

Harry stopped by the exit, not really wanting to go to the coldness outside. The fairies in the garden shed their light over the rose bushes, and some of that magical light infiltrated the dark corner in which Harry and Ginny had stopped.

All the mushiness he had witnessed during the last two days had their impact on Harry. He put one hand on Ginny's upper arm, and held the nape of her neck with his other. Her glowing hair felt like a waterfall of golden silk under his fingers. He let locks of her hair fall between his fingers, combing them away from her back.

The kiss that followed was the most natural he ever had with her. For the first time after a year together, Ginny didn't look at him like she was spell-stricken. She just closed her eyes and purred with pure pleasure. He kissed her again, more passionately, sliding his arm from her shoulder to her back, tightening his grip on her.

Harry wanted to stay like this forever, standing by the garden door, undisturbed. The sound of the crickets was surpassed only by the pounding of their hearts, the darkness of the night only disturbed by the red glow from Ginny's hair, and some silvery fairy light.

Harry felt Ginny melting under his touch. He supported her, but felt her weight increasingly pressing on his arms as she also stopped answering his kisses. He tried to balance both of them, but found that Ginny wasn't responsive at all. It was as if she simply didn't want to stand on her own two feet. He looked at her puzzled. Her eyes were closed, a blissful smile on her lips. She looked very tranquil, and very much asleep.

Harry tried to shake her a little, but she made no conscious motions. He lowered her gently to the floor, kneeling next to her. Ginny grabbed his arm and hugged it zealously, much like the way a small child hugs his teddy bear. This didn't look like the effect of a stupefying spell, but it was worth a try. Harry released his arm from Ginny's grip, not without effort, and took out his wand. He pointed it at her, and softly said, "_Ennervate_".

Nothing happened.

Panic surging into him, Harry stood up and looked around for help. The scene around him made his heart miss a beat. Everyone around was falling like heat stricken flies. Harry tried to find the cause for the general collapse, but saw nothing strange in the room.

Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, and all the other professors were on the floor making a very scholared looking heap. He looked frantically around for Madam Pomfrey, but then remembered she wasn't at the banquet either. She was probably back at the hospital wing. He dashed out to get her.

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The Great Hall was arranged to have many hidden corners. Hermione and Viktor found one of those, and stood there doing something they rarely did when they were alone during the past two days. They talked. They brought up memories of the Yule Ball of two years before.

Slowly, Hermione got a grasp of the importance Viktor put on that first date they had. He called it "the turning point of my life", and "the day I saw the light". This frightened her. She was, of course, very serious about their relationship, but not that serious.

As they talked, Viktor's speak was slowly turning into something incomprehensible. Hermione wondered if his accent was becoming heavier, his words slurred, or if the problem was with her own ears. The latter seemed to be a likely possibility, as the music was becoming a blur as well.

Hermione felt so tired. All she wanted was to sleep. She knew that she shouldn't. She knew that she needed to get out of the Great Hall first and reach her dormitories, but she simply couldn't hold herself upright any longer. Her eyes just closed without her having any control over it. As she slumped to the floor, she felt strong arms grabbing her, and then she plunged into sweet darkness.

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The infirmary door was locked. Harry banged on it with heavy fists, but there was no answer. Out of sheer desperation, he pulled out his wand and bellowed "_alohomora_". The door slammed into the opposite wall with a loud crashing sound. Harry ignored it and stepped inside.

The hospital wing seemed to be deserted. Harry looked around, and suddenly spotted the nurse on the most remote bed, almost completely hidden by her overburdened desk. He approached her, covering the distance in five large strides.

"Madam Pomfrey, Get up, we need your help," he said, not really caring about waking her up with a start, but he got no reaction. He tried shaking her, but the way her body just moved from side to side with his hand indicated that she wasn't exactly asleep.

Dread filled Harry's heart. He feared that the worst had happened to her. He took a deep breath to relax and get his heartbeat back to normal, then, looked at her from up close. She was breathing. Good. He tried to shake her more vigorously, but to no avail.

Harry's wand remained in his hands after he'd used it to blast the door open. He pointed it at Madam Pomfrey's still body, and mouthed the words to end a Stupefy spell. "_Ennervate_," he whispered.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes were shot open. "What happened?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"I came here to get you to the Great Hall and found you under a Stupefying spell," Harry said hastily. "Do you know who attacked you?"

"I have no idea," answered Madam Pomfrey as she slowly heaved herself to a sitting position. "I didn't even realise there was someone with me in the room. The last thing I remember is going over lists of potion ingredients. Did the Yule ball start already?"

"Yes," said Harry, urgency sneaking to his voice. "Over three hours ago. And now almost everyone is out cold. This is why I came here to get you."

"What do you mean 'out cold'?" The experienced school nurse already began putting potion cordials in a small medical bag.

"One minute I was talking to Ron, and the next minute he was on the floor. When I looked around, there were only a few people standing, and they didn't look like they were going to stay that way for much longer."

Madam Pomfrey stopped collecting the flasks momentarily. "Oh no," she said, wearing a terrified expression

"What?" erupted Harry. 

"I think I know why I was attacked," she said. After a long pause, in which she opened a few of the cabinets, she added, "A lot of the Sleeping Potion missing."

Harry felt relieved. "So they're all just sleeping," he said. "Could have been worse."

"Not really," said Madam Pomfrey sombrely. "It depends on the amount consumed. It could be deadly." She gave Harry a piercing look. "How do you feel, Harry?" She said it almost as a threat, daring him to lie.

"I'm fine," said Harry. For once, he didn't have to lie to her when he said that. "This is the one time I don't need your medical care." He tried a smile, but was too worried to really succeed.

Madam Pomfrey tucked a few more flasks in her bag, and rushed out. Harry followed her, his wand still in his hand. He had a feeling that whoever attacked the nurse and sent all the students and staff to sleep, could still be around. After all, the attacker had a reason behind it.

Just as they approached the Great Hall, Harry saw a shadow move beside the open castle doors. "Go on, I'll catch up," Harry whispered to Madam Pomfrey. He stalked after the moving shadow, following it outside the castle doors.

Madam Pomfrey watched him with a worried frown, and then opened the doors to the Great Hall. There was nothing she could do help Harry, but there were dozens of other students in need for her. Too easily this boy rushed into unknown danger, never stopping to think. How many times had she treated him for his injuries in the fight against the Dark Forces? How many times had she told him to be more careful, to stop to consider before he got into battle? How many times the fact that he didn't take this advice had saved he wizarding world? She smiled bitterly and entered the Great Hall. She hoped that the next time she saw him he would still be within the reach of her aid.

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The shadowy image was getting quickly away from the castle, scurrying towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry hastily launched after it, gaining on it with little effort.

The closer he got, the more intimidating the chased figure had seemed. It was someone very large, wearing a stealth black cloak with the hood pulled up. The reason Harry had no trouble catching up with it was that whoever it was, carried something that was obviously very heavy.

Concentrated on overtaking the hooded figure, Harry paid no more heed to keeping quiet. At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, when Harry nearly reached him, the hooded giant stopped, put down the burden, and turned to face his chaser.

Harry couldn't see the face beneath the hood, but he caught a glimpse of the enormous hand coming out of the ample sleeve of the cloak. He didn't even have a chance to break his run before the wand that hand was holding lashed an ugly green flare at him. With his Quidditch-acquired instincts, Harry rolled on the ground, dodging the curse.

The green light hit the snow inches away from Harry's head, digging a large crater in it. Harry jumped into that very crater to steer clear off the second curse that was hurtled upon him.

The second curse crashed to the ground, sending clods of mud mixed with snow to every direction. Harry stood up in the crater holding his wand high above his head. He was only visible from his shoulders up, showing a black head covered with mud, and very dirty dress robes that were once forest-green and were now forest-mire. Putting in every bit of strength he could muster, he howled, "_expelliarmus_". 

The wand flew away from the gigantic fist of the assailer. Harry leaped out of the crater while launching a stupefying spell at his hooded foe. With one amble leap that didn't fit the figure's dimensions, it was gone into the Forbidden Forest, leaving behind whatever it was carrying.

Harry rushed towards the abandoned object. It was a shallow stone basin with odd symbols and runes carved around the rim. Silver light was coming from inside the basin, originating from the silvery swirling substance in it. Harry recognised it. It was Dumbledore's Pensieve.

Harry's heart told him to chase after the intruder who had stolen the Pensieve, but his brain stopped him. He decided to take the Pensieve back to Dumbledore, and then see about the escaped thief.

wondering why the thief didn't use a levitation charm to take the Pensieve, Harry levitated it, and began striding towards the castle. Very quickly he learned why the giant had preferred to use his physical strength to carry his loot instead of using magic. Harry's wand began shaking uncontrollably, making first his hand, and then his entire body vibrate with it.

There was no use trying to put the vibrations under control. Harry stopped, and let the Pensieve rest on the snow. Now that he no longer concentrated on the demanding levitation charm, he could hear hoofs galloping behind him, stomping snow and twigs in an amok career.

Harry wheeled abruptly, defending the Pensieve with his body. The sounds were coming from within the Forbidden Forest. He could not see what was making them, but that was the least of his worries.

As he turned, Harry only had a glimpse of the huge image storming him. The thief that ran into the forest had returned, and stalked behind him. It was so close, that even though it was still hooded, Harry could see its face - a huge, pink, round man's face. Harry could swear this was an enlarged version of Goyle, or was it Crabbe? Harry could never really tell one from the other. He only had a short moment to contemplate on the question before an enormous punch hit his jaw, sending him into painful darkness.

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Hermione knew it had to have been hours since she fell asleep. Still, those comforting, endorsing arms still held her when she woke up, keeping her from all harm. She tilted her head ever so slightly, just enough to rub her cheek against the sleeve beneath her head. She immediately jumped up, horrified.

She knew the touch of Viktor's cloaks. It was rough and heavy and smelled of mountaintops and deep snow. The cloak against her cheek was very soft and smooth, and smelled like a bunch of carnations mixed with mint. Those arms were not Viktor's. They belonged to - _Draco_.

Even though being held by Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione wanted, leaping out of his arms was a very stupid thing to do. After being unconscious for hours, her body had just enough strength for that isolated motion, and then she collapsed again, right into his ready hands.

Draco collected her as she fell, putting one hand beneath her shoulders and catching her with his other. He held her like this, helpless, for a few seconds. Then got to his knees slowly, easing her to the floor.

Hermione felt something soft beneath her. She turned her head with effort, and saw that she was lying on a mattress. Hundreds of such mattresses were scattered about the Great Hall, occupied by sleeping students. She wanted to ask Malfoy for some explanations, but he was still crouched over her, and, although he put no weight on her, she found it impossible to breathe.

Reluctantly, Draco pulled away from Hermione, and slumped on the mattress next to her. "Your boyfriend's over there," he answered her unasked question, pointing at the curled-up figure of Viktor on one of the nearby mattresses.

Hermione didn't dare try to get up again just yet. She looked at Viktor's large black figure, coiled on the floor looking like a huge muff-ball. His wool cloak covered every part of him but the top tuft of his hair. "How...?" she stammered, moving her puzzled look to Draco.

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Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on his back in a dimly lit room. Although he couldn't see the ceiling, he knew this was a room because it had tall stone walls all around it. He could not see any stars either, so he assumed there was a ceiling, only very high above.

Sharp pain threatened to tear him apart. Harry assumed that Goyle's father (obviously, that's who he was) did not suffice in the punch that knocked him out, but continued the beating until he was sure Harry wouldn't wake up anytime soon.

Trying tried to sit up, Harry found that he couldn't move. He thought he might be under body bind spell, but a throbbing on the surface of his wrists indicated that something was simply holding him down. Trying to wriggle a bit, he felt binds around other parts of his body as well - his ankles, thighs, waist, chest and neck were all restrained by cold metal straps.

A hole opened in one of the stone walls. One after the other, hooded wizards wearing white masks entered the room. They were carrying torches that burned with a green fire, casting odd shadows on the walls, filling the room with a green sickening light.

In the light, Harry could see that he wasn't lying on the floor of the room. He was strapped to a raised dark green marble altar. The altar was decorated with silver patterns all around it, mostly shaped like snakes. The Silver serpent-like manacles held his hands stretched high over his head, and the marching binds looked like a part of the altar's ornamentation.

One of the smaller wizards approached Harry. His artificial hand glittered in the light, revealing his identity - Wormtail. Harry looked around, but did not see Voldemort. He thought this could be a great opportunity to capture Wormtail and bring him to the Ministry of Magic as proof of Sirius' innocence. There was only the minute problem with the manacles holding him, and also the fact that he could see his own wand in Wormtail's silver hand.

By the time Wormtail had reached Harry, the Death Eaters were no longer coming into the room. They formed a circle around the altar on which Harry was bound. With his human hand, Wormtail held his torch over Harry's head, and then, with a heavy thrust he lowered the hilt into Harry's temple, sending him back into the darkness from which he emerged only minutes before.

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A/N: I thought I'd end the chapter here, and then I thought - well, why not make it worse?

"There was Sleeping Potion in the punch," Malfoy said unconcernedly. "Anyone who drank from the punch fell asleep."

"Oh," said Hermione, comprehension downing on her. "Didn't you have any?"

"No," said Malfoy, a shadow of a bitter smile on his lips. "I had plans for tonight that didn't' include being drunk." His steel-cold eyes had a spark that yelled "Danger!" to Hermione. She moved her gaze away from his eyes.

"I'm lucky I didn't drink too much," said Hermione. She naturally knew the potential danger in consuming too much Sleeping Potion. A worried frown took over her face as she said, "there must have been others who did get an overdose!" She tried to get up to look for students who where in moral danger.

"You can stay where you are," Malfoy drawled. "Anyone who needed real care was taken to the hospital wing hours ago."

"Hours!" Hermione called fluttered. "How long was I out?"

Malfoy's indifferent expression hadn't faltered. "Around three hours," he said. The look of shock on her face met his amused smile, his almost-white eyes penetrating her very existence.

Then, her expression changed to pure horror. "And you've been holding me all that time?" she said, her voice a notch higher than normal.

"Well," His amused smile took over his entire face, "Pansy was taken to the hospital wing. I really didn't have anything better to do." His usually light grey eyes gave her a very dark look. "You know, this fabric you wear really is nice to the touch. And it's the same all over the dress."

"Argh!" Hermione brushed her upper arms and then her folded up legs, hugging them to her chest as if she could erase the impression of his touch. She felt extremely violated.

Malfoy looked at her gloatingly. After a while he was tired of watching her scrape off layers of her skin. "I really only touched the dress," he said.

Hermione looked at him infuriated, and stopped her frantic rubbing. "I'll have these robes burned, then," she said.

"Make sure to take them off first," he retorted, still amused. "Although..." he stopped talking and pretended to be thinking about it.

Hermione glared at him, and was then angry with herself for letting Malfoy get to her. She took a deep breath and visualised herself put an igniting spell over her robes. This image had an odd calming influence on her. 

"So, who else beside Pansy was taken to the infirmary?" she asked.

"Weasley," said Malfoy, his smile broadening, but his eyes turning harsher, regaining their normal pale coldness.

"Who, Ginny?"

"No. Ginny is glowing over there." He pointed to a remote section of hall, where Hermione could distinctly see the residue of Harry's spell on Ginny's hair. "I meant the uglier Weasley."

Hermione strained her eyes to look around Ginny. It was relatively easy, since Ginny's hair poured feeble heavenly light on her vicinity. The mattresses around her seemed vacant. "Was Harry taken too?" she asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

Malfoy's cold gaze turned even colder. "I don't know," he drawled. "I haven't seen Potter here at all. Maybe he sauntered someplace secluded and dropped dead." He sounded too eager for his words to be taken as a joke.

Hermione glared at him again. She slowly rose to her feet, staggering slightly. Malfoy elegantly leaped up and stood beside her. He hugged her shoulders as she wavered, supporting her with his arms and his chest.

Hermione shivered. "Take - your hands - off me!" she asserted furiously. She didn't know if her voice quivered from anger or from the effort she put in to remain standing on her feet.

With deliberate slowness, Malfoy took his hands away, brushing her upper arms as he did. "Well, well. Look at you! Standing all by yourself."

She wanted to glare at him but couldn't even turn her head without chancing to fall over. She waited for some time for her dizziness to diminish. To her surprise, it didn't take long. She went over to Viktor and checked on his condition. He was fast asleep, releasing soft rhythmic snoring sounds. She tried to remember everything she knew about Sleeping Potions.

Unlike Muggle medicine, the size of the person consuming them was irrelevant to their effect. Only the amount mattered. Viktor had one goblet more than Hermione. That meant he had hours before he woke up. Hermione decided she would have to find Harry on her own. She would start at the infirmary. Malfoy didn't strike her as a reliable source of information. Especially not information about Harry's well being.

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"My lord, it had been done," said the small man as he crouched in front of his master. His black robes spread over the flagstones as he bent deeper to grab the rim of his master's robes and kiss it.

The tall, lean figure that was his master moved away brusquely, causing his minion to fall forward with a thud. "Good," he hissed, his scarlet eyes glowing with frightening delight. "Than, the boy is ours."

"Master, I mean no disrespect," said the minion as he used his silvery hand to heave himself from the flagstones, "but, are you sure this will place the boy under our control?"

With sluggish casualty the master pointed his wand to the minion who by now had risen to his knees. "_crucio_," he hissed lazily. The small wizard fell back to the ground, rolling and screaming from the deep of his throat. The master let his hand drop slowly, releasing the scrambling servant from his agony.

"As you understand, my deer Wormtail, the answer is yes." His slit snake-like pupils widened slightly, as if the darkness in the room had increased. "Once he kills one of his friends, he will be like play-doh, waiting for us to shape his soul."

"My Lord, why would he kill one of his friends?" Once again, Wormtail tried to push up from the floor, using one steady silver hand and one extremely shaky human hand.

His master turned to him, harsh amusement on his hideous face. "They will mistrust him, fear him. Eventually they will attack him, leaving him no choice. After he does what he must to survive, it'll be easy for him to repeat it for us." He let out a short croak.

"My Lord, what if they kill him first?"

"All the better. But no. He is strong. Very strong. He is a survivor. No, I don't think he will die. Potter will become my most important servant. With him as my right hand, there will be no one in the wizarding world who will dare defy me. My way to glory will be much shorter." He turned on his heels and looked sharply at his quivering minion. "Release him."

"Master, are you sure?" Wormtail winced as he saw his master raise his wand again. "Yes My Lord," he said, hurrying away from the wrath of his master.

Wormtail stood at the corner, where two tall, dark walls met. He could almost see the shadows that was the wall moving inside it. Shivering, he opened the palm of his silvery hand. Red and blue flames danced on it. He spread a jot of powder from his pocket over the small fire, and it burned green. "Goyle," he said into his burning palm.

A pink round face appeared in the flame. "Yes?" he said impatiently.

"You are to return Potter to where you found him," ordered Wormtail. Goyle looked at him through the green tongues of fire, radiating disbelief. Wormtail narrowed his eyes. "Those are the words of our lord," he said.

"If you say so," answered Goyle thickly.

Wormtail closed his hand to a fist, putting out the flame. Those were his Master's orders. He just hoped the Dark Lord would remember them if they fail.

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On the way to the infirmary, Hermione practiced exaggerated sulkiness. Malfoy had insisted on coming with her, claiming he wanted to see Pansy. He refused to answer her question as to why he didn't go three hours earlier.

The hospital wing was awfully quiet, hosting students who were submerged in deep enforced sleep. The night seemed thicker there in ways that made Hermione gasp for air. She saw that Malfoy was uncomfortable as well, although he didn't seem to choke like she did.

Madam Pomfrey was moving from bed to bed, checking the students and pouring potions into their mouths. Hermione scanned the occupied beds. She recognised Ron immediately, and could also see Pansy Parkinson. Only five other students were there, but none of them was Harry.

Malfoy showed no interest in Pansy. He strolled leisurely around the room, inspecting the potions on the medicine tray, and showing excessive interest in the ceiling.

"Do you need anything?" asked Madam Pomfrey, temporarily ceasing her caring actions.

"Yes," Hermione said cautiously. "I'm looking for Harry. He wasn't in the..." She didn't need to continue. The look of great distress that spread over Madam Pomfrey's face told her that she knew exactly where Harry was.

"He is here," Hermione tried to state a wishful fact.

"No," said Madam Pomfrey quietly. "He went out." She looked extremely upset when she said that.

"Out?" Hermione had a hard time grasping the idea.

"Out of the castle. He saw something, and he went chasing after it."

"The git," said Malfoy.

Hermione scowled at him. "Aren't you here to see your girlfriend?" she said.

"Sure," retorted Malfoy. "I see her. She's over there, asleep." He pointed indistinctly to the direction of Pansy's bed.

Hermione shook her head dejectedly, and then turned her attention back to Madam Pomfrey, her eyes begging for more information.

"I really don't know anything else," said Madam Pomfrey, reading the expression on her face. "I went into the Great Hall, and he went out of the castle." She softened her voice. "Don't worry, he'd been in the worst situations and survived. I'm sure he can take care of himself."

"Take care of himself?!" Hermione shouted, frustrated. "How many times did you have to nurse him back to health from mortal wounds? He's just a boy!" she stopped shouting, seeing that this amused Malfoy tremendously. "Does Dumbledore know about this?"

"I have informed professor Dumbledore, yes." Madam Pomfrey looked down at the flask in her hand. "To be honest, I don't know what he can do. I'm afraid it is up to young Mr Potter."

Hermione turned and stormed out of the infirmary without even saying 'thanks'.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked, rushing after her.

"I'm going to see what I can do to help Harry," Hermione felt tears begin to form in her throat. "Go away."

"You're going to need help," he declared.

This statement caught Hermione so unprepared, that she stopped on the spot. "From you? You will help me save Harry?" she sneered at him.

"You think Potter's the only one who can fight the bad guys?" he sneered right back.

"You _are _the bad guys!" She resumed her fast pace.

"Not necessarily." His longer legs easily caught up with her. "I now choose to be on the good guys side."

"You can't choose!" Hermione panted.

"I can," he said, not showing any signs of effort keeping up the pace. "Admit it. You need help. What will you do if and when you find him? Assuming his condition will allow you to do anything."

Hermione choked on the though. He did have a point in saying Harry could be in a state beyond anyone's help. The tears that were forming in her throat moved to her eyes, and then took a free dive to the flagstones. "I don't want you with me," she said quietly. "And I know Harry won't want you either."

"Tough luck," Malfoy said stiffly. "Because I'm coming either way."

Draco couldn't understand why he was insisting on going with the Mudblood on her mission to find and save the famous Harry Potter. He amused himself with the idea that saving Potter would mean taking some of his glory and being able to rub it in his face for the rest of their school days.

Also, finding Potter, whatever his condition was, didn't necessarily mean saving him. If he was to finish off Harry Potter, his position was granted with the powers that be.

Deep in his heart, or whatever Draco had for a heart, he knew that none of these was the reason he was tugging along with the Mudblood. What the real reason was, he could not tell. By the time he finished reasoning his actions, Hermione had already reached the heavy oak doors that led out of the castle and opened them wide.

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Harry woke again. He was no longer tied to the marble altar. He was curled up on the ground, and could feel soft wet snow beneath him. His robes were soaked and heavy, pulling him down as he sat up with great effort.

There was a forest behind his back, and not far away was a hut that looked just like Hagrid's. He felt around, and surprisingly found his glasses. He put them on. That _was_ Hagrid's hut. He could see the shadow of Hogwarts castle across the Quidditch pitch.

This was the exact same place where he was attacked. With little hope in his heart, Harry looked around him. The only sign left of the Pensieve was a circle etched into the snow. Many hoof marks surrounded the pressed snow, but the Pensieve was not there.

There was no point in trying to pull himself off the ground. Harry knew that his legs wouldn't carry him. They didn't hurt, he just couldn't feel them at all. He dragged himself on his elbows towards Hagrid's hut.

With all the strength he had, Harry banged on the lower part of hut's door, but there was no answer. Hagrid wasn't there, and even Fang's barks could not be heard. With even less hope than he had to find the Pensieve, Harry fumbled around in his pockets, looking for his wand. To his utter amazement, he found it. He magiced the door open, and fell inside.

The fire was out but a few smouldering embers that still glowed in the grate. From where he had fallen, Harry pointed his wand to it, and made flames soar up. Then, he collapsed on the floor, still conscious, but completely unable to move.

After a while, the heat coming from the fireplace sent tingles all over Harry's body, including his legs. He pulled himself closer to the fire, and slumped on the floor in front of it.

Harry regretted the defrosting fire once it had brought back the feeling to his limbs. The dull freeze that occupied his body earlier was replaced with a sharp, unforgiving pain. Fresh blood started streaming from open wounds now that his veins were no longer contracted by the cold.

Harry knew that he must get help. The clock over the hearth showed "long before dawn". The late hour plus the fact that Fang wasn't around, meant that Hagrid was not due in the hut any time soon.

Under normal circumstances, the Hogwarts castle wasn't very far away. Now, it seemed almost unreachable. Harry pulled himself up. He stood on shaky legs, but managed to remain standing. He put out the fire, and stepped out to the snow.

Strong wind met him as he let the hut door slam behind him. He started plodding his way towards the castle. _One step at a time_, he told himself.

The way looked longer than any journey Harry had ever taken. Every step was agony that just increased as he progressed. The castle didn't seem to get any closer, but the signs on the way told him he was getting there. He passed the eastern Quidditch stadium stands. The Whomping Willow. The western stands.

Harry could no longer feel his legs or his fingers. He only had the last few feet to cover before he reached the tall, steep stairway that led to the heavy oak doors, and into the castle.

On his knees, his hands buried in the snow up to his elbows, Harry crawled towards the base of the steps. He sunk his nails in the first step, and pulled himself closer to it. Once he was close enough, he moved his numb hands to the second step, and pulled again. And again, and again.

The steps seemed to go on forever. The last of Harry's strength was rapidly leaving him. He looked up - still a long way to go. He looked down, desperately seeking encouragement, and found it. It seemed that he had already passed the half-way point.

With renewed strength, Harry managed to heave himself four more steps before he lost his grip and rolled down, his body hitting the stone steps like a rag-doll. He could hear Hermione's voice screaming his name from the top of the stairs before he landed at the bottom, breathless, and unconscious. 

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Even before he opened his eyes, Harry knew exactly where he was. There was no mistaking the distinct smell of the Hogwarts school infirmary. A small hand was held in his. He gave it a feeble squeeze. The hand jerked, almost breaking contact with him.

"He's awake! Harry's awake!" he heard Hermione's overwrought voice.

Harry opened his eyes a slit. The sunlight in the room was too strong for him. It was definitely daytime. How long has he been asleep? From the crack between his eyelids, Harry could see Ginny sitting by his head, fidgeting in her chair. Hermione sat beside him, still holding his hand. Krum stood above her, his hand on her shoulder, and a worried frown on his face. Harry wondered if he was worried _for_ him, or _because_ of him.

Harry gave Hermione a reassuring smile, and then turned to Ginny. "You're all right," he said softly. " I was so worried about you."

Ginny gave a nervous titter. "I was in no real danger," she said. "But you... where on earth did you go? What happened to you?"

Harry frowned, ignoring Ginny's question. Something was seriously wrong with the picture. It dawned on him - "Where's Ron?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"In the bed next to you," replied Ginny, pointing behind Harry. "He's still sleeping off the potion."

"What potion?"

"Oh, right, you don't know," said Ginny, looking even more irritated. "There was Sleeping Potion in the punch. Anyone who drank it fell asleep. Ron had quite a lot, so he needed some antidote, and he was brought here."

The infirmary door opened, and professor Dumbledore walked in, accompanied by a large black dog. He stopped a few feet away from Harry, while the black dog ran to the bed and put his head on Harry's (and Hermione's) hand.

Harry smiled cheerfully, and patted the dog. "Hello Snaffles," he said.

The dog raised his head and struck Harry's cheek with his muzzles. This action caused Madam Pomfrey to jerk in front of Harry's bed, a shocked look on her face.

"Everybody out of here!" she announced with a tone that left no room for dispute.

"Oh, come on Poppy," said Dumbledore with a conciliating tone, his eyes twinkling. "You know how much Harry is attached to his, ehem, dog."

Madam Pomfrey knew very well who the dog was. She let him stay with Harry more than once before, but this time there were too many people around for Sirius to assume his human form. "Just make sure he doesn't leave any hair on the bed," she said crossed, knowing that the fight was lost before it even began.

The sight of Dumbledore brought the memories of the previous night back to Harry, and he shuddered. "Your Pensieve..." he began.

"Is gone," Dumbledore finished for him. "Did you see the ones who took it?" He looked at Harry very seriously, although his eyes kept twinkling.

Harry looked around. The students on the other beds were still be asleep, but he felt uncomfortable talking near them, or near his well-wishers for that matter. He didn't want to say anything about the events of the night to Ginny, and he certainly didn't want to reveal everything to Krum. Hermione was the only one he felt easy talking to.

Dumbledore interpreted Harry's uncomfortable gaze well. "I would like to be left alone with Harry, please," he said in a tranquil, and yet firm voice.

The three guests rose and went to the infirmary door. Before she left, Hermione gave Harry's hand one last encouraging squeeze.

"I'll talk to you later," Harry said. Both Ginny and Hermione nodded in agreement, and Harry wondered which one of them he actually meant.

The moment the door closed behind them, Harry started talking. His story was very short, and barely gave Sirius time to turn into a man. "I'm sorry," Harry apologised. "I was out cold most of the time. I really don't remember much."

"Do you know how you escaped?" asked Dumbledore.

"I have no idea," said Harry. "I know I didn't do it. There must have been someone there who helped me."

"Maybe," Dumbledore pondered out loud. "Maybe we have an aid among the Dark Forces. You are very lucky to have escaped. The way it sounds, you were in a very difficult position. Whoever freed you must have taken great risks upon himself."

Sirius, who so far seemed very restless, could no longer hold his tongue. "That was extremely stupid, running off after a Death Eater like that. What were you thinking? Someone was able to penetrate the castle, attack Madam Pomfrey, slip a potion into the punch under the open eyes of all the Hogwarts professors, and run away with an item right from Dumbledore's chambers, and you thought that you - an underage wizard, would catch him and retrieve the item? That is not only stupid, that is also extremely arrogant of you!" He looked furious.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Harry. "I wasn't thinking. I just saw him, and I simply ran after him, I didn't stop to consider -"

"You're right about that!" Sirius continued his scolding. "You weren't thinking."

"Now, now, Sirius," Dumbledore tried to calm him down. "The boy is safe now. He will be back on his feet within a few days. I'm sure that you would have done the same in his place. Actually, when you were in his place you did exactly the same."

"That is no excuse," said Sirius, still trying to sound harsh, but his voice gave him away. He smiled uncomfortably at Harry. "You could have been killed. As a matter of fact, you almost did die. If it hadn't been for Hermione and the Malfoy boy, I'm not sure we would be holding this conversation now."

"Malfoy?!" screeched Harry. "What's he got to do with it?"

"He's the one who carried you back into the castle," Dumbledore answered calmly.

"Malfoy?" repeated Harry. "Malfoy saved my life?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Sirius. "Actually, that is exactly what he did. You were so hypothermic when he got you in here, that a few more minutes out in the snow would have probably been the end of you."

Harry shook his head, trying to settle the new information somewhere in his head. _He's going to rub this in my face for the rest of our days in Hogwarts_, he thought.

Madam Pomfrey approached them again. "Harry really needs to rest now," she said, testing the affect of her words on them. When she received no protest, she continued more confidently, "If you have no more important things to discuss, I would like him to take his Resting Potion now. I would have given him Sleeping Potion, but I have none left." She gazed irritated at the sleeping students.

Dumbledore and Sirius left Harry alone with his light blue swirling potion. Harry swallowed the most tasteful potion he had so far and leaned back, relaxed. He started feeling the impact of his injuries in splitting pains all over his body.

Not most painful, but certainly most annoying, was a lesion on Harry's arm. It radiated waves of unpleasant heat all over his body. Harry pulled away the sleeve of the infirmary robes and looked at what he expected to be a wound.

On his forearm, at exactly the place he had seen red marks twice during the last two days, was no longer a red mark. Nor was the expected bruise. On his arm, drawn in clear vermilion, was a human skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. The Dark Mark. Harry pulled the sleeve back down and closed his eyes in disbelief.

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A/N: I know I promised a new mate for Krum, but we'll just have to wait till next time. Some of you were very close, though, and I'll grant you your equitable points after the affair is out. And no, it's not Ginny. She's only fifteen. Honestly!

Grave apology (as usual): I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to put Harry through such misery. He was supposed to simply plod his way to the castle, and collapse at the top of the stairs right at Hermione's feet, but the wiseacre saw Hagrid's hut, and wasted all his strength breaking into it. I really have no idea how things deteriorated from there... well, at least now he's ok (sort of). All that's left is to plunge on into the next chapter, where there will be a hilarious and yet disturbing Care of Magical Creatures class, compliments of professor Rubeus Hagrid. TA!

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Read? Review!

Thanks to:  
Sanna, The Beautiful Egyptian Cat Eyes, HGW, Lizzy, LunaLuv, Amanita Lestrange, Rifky, Rin Berry: for your lovely and informative reviews. I'll take your remarks and requests into careful consideration.  
Eloria: for making me laugh.  
Keith Fraser: for reviewing even though you had trouble with the fic. I suggest that you do read the first installment (now defined as chapter #1). And no, Krum does not go to Hogwarts, he came to spend the Christmas holiday with Hermione.  
HPRules: for opening my eyes to see the truth, see the introduction to this chapter.  
Cassandra Claire: for sticking matches in my eyes to keep them open, and for being my inspiration, and for #8 of Draco Sinister, which caused this installment to be delayed. BTW, I'm still waiting for your answer about that phrase.  
The Padded One: I'll have much more to say to you at the end of the next chapter...  
Victor'Gurl, Elyssa: Oh, I'm so sorry. You made me reconsider my original plans, but no, Krum will not have Hermione. I hope you'll be satisfied with his new arrangement. It is a perfect match in my opinion. And, no, Ginny is way too young for him.  
SweetheartJaclyn: thanks for letting people know about the prelude.  
CourtneyPotter, me, Julius, HPF: special thanks for making the effort to review and give kind words even though you didn't know what to say.

Special thanks to: Lily, Mina, GinnyPotter, Kathy who all bothered to review the first installment even though the second was already on. And an additional thanks for the review of the previous chapter.

And GinnyPotter: of course it is much. Way too much. This is why it is soap! (thanks again, HPRules).

30


	4. And Now, We Wait

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 4**_

_And now, we wait._

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Dark-Mark Yule-Ball D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: This chapter is the reason why this whole series is rated PG13. Draco is finally getting somewhere, and pays dearly for it. Harry isn't having too many laughs either.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Harry lay back, his eyes closed, and his breathing extremely irregular. Overanxious and terribly frightened, his heart was racing at an incredible speed. He checked his forearm again to make sure his eyes hadn't deceived him, but there it was, etched with inflamed dark red - the Dark Mark. The symbol of all that was evil, of all that was wrong in the world in general, and in Harry's life in particular.

Harry's eyes closed again, but the sign was reflecting from the inside of his closed eyelids. He didn't want to doze off, knowing that his usual streak of bad dreams would necessarily take a turn for the worse. Holding that thought, he drifted into sleep.

Winter morning sun sent lukewarm rays onto Harry's hospital bad, caressing his eyes, and waking him up. Harry woke with a blissful smile. He slept for an almost full day without having to break his sleep because of nightmares. As a matter of fact, he had really sweet dreams.

Sweet dreams were something Harry had never known before. Usually, when he dreamt, it was nightmares. Either the kind that jolts you awake with a start and a need to change your sweat-drenched clothes, or just the type that leaves you with a bad taste in the mouth. He occasionally had nice dreams, most likely about Quidditch, a trophy, and often a sore-loser Malfoy. He even had _really_ nice dreams, which had Ginny as a guest-star, but never, ever had he experienced a sweet dream.

_In his dream, it was summer. He was sitting in a meadow, the last droplets of dew evaporating around him. He had a blanket spread beneath a shady tree, which was overflowing with silver-green leaves. His mother was sitting by him, spreading jam on a slice of bread from a freshly baked loaf. Harry closed his eyes to indulge himself on the bread's strong aroma. When he opened them again, he saw his mother looking at him with a loving smile, handing him the slice. Harry felt her smile engulf him as a warm blanket of serenity. He turned his head lazily, and saw his father, slumbering with his back to the tree-trunk, his hair, just like Harry's, terribly dishevelled. They didn't talk, they hardly even moved, and Harry wasn't worried about losing this moment, like he usually did when he dreamt of his parents. In his dream, Harry knew that this little picnic was a regular thing._

Residue from his dream left Harry extremely high-spirited. As his mind slowly lost its sleepy haze, he was reminded of the mark on his forearm. The unalloyed blissful feeling in was somewhat abated, but not entirely. There was still the shadow of a smile on his lips when Ginny came into the room. His smile broadened as he saw her, and his eyes sparkled happily.

"What are you so happy about?" Ginny asked, very excited to see Harry in good spirits after the events of the night before.

"I just had a really good night's sleep," said Harry dreamily.

"Oh." Ginny gave him a quizzical look.

She was so beautiful this morning. She was always pretty, but this morning everything seemed brighter, painted with more vivid colours than ever. Harry pulled himself up to a sitting position and reached to touch Ginny's cheek. The sleeve of his hospital robes slid down, exposing the new mark on his forearm.

Harry took his hand down, a bolt of panic passing through him. Ginny seemed too busy looking at his face to notice his arm. Harry relaxed, and let the blissful sensation spread its warm wings over him again. But Ginny saw something different flicker in his eyes.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, her voice quivering with worry.

The word 'no' almost passed Harry's lips, but then he reconsidered. This was actually a very good explanation. "Yes," he answered, giving a show of bravely handling his injury.

Ginny's frown deepened. "I'll go get Madam Pomfrey."

"No need," he said hurriedly. "I'll be fine." These words added veneration to the way Ginny regarded him, and Harry was abruptly reminded of what it was that bothered him about his relationship with her. "I'd like to be alone," he told her. He turned to lie on his side, his back turned to her.

Ginny stroked his hair, his shoulders and his back. Her touch was like the warm caress of the sun in the summer – pleasant, yet burning. Harry made an effort not to shiver as her hand moved over his body. When she got no response, Ginny kissed him gently behind his ear. "I'll check with you later," she whispered and left.

Harry spent the entire morning reliving the dream he had had. To his mental command, he could feel his mother's touch, see his father's tranquil face, smell the recently cut grass and the freshly baked bread. He never felt so happy in his life. This was almost as peaceful as being under the Imperius Curse, only the dream felt much more real.

The sunrays that shone such clever white in the morning had begun their slow transition towards bright twilight orange, and then heavy crimson. The fluffy, silvery clouds that had covered the sky during the day became more threatening dark grey, exposing bits of indigo sky between them.

Harry watched the changeover outside the infirmary window, his calm mind absorbing and accepting the sights. Ginny showed up sometime during the day, carrying his favourite dinner pudding, but Harry pretended to be sleeping. She placed the plate on his nightstand, let her lips flutter on his cheek, and left again, not to return that day.

For the first time since the end of the Triwizard tournament, Harry waited for sleep to take over him.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry jumped out of bed with the first light of the new day. The sweet dreams had returned, but they no longer entranced Harry. Just made him extremely happy.

_In one of theses dreams, Harry was riding his Firebolt high above the abundant tree and the picnic blanket resting in its shadow. The tree' dark green leaves were just a blur at the edge of his vision, and the silver sparkle they spread seemed to fill the light green meadow over which Harry flew._

_His father was flying on another Firebolt beside him, scanning the field. They were both searching for a Snitch they had released earlier. They both spotted it simultaneously, and soared through the air, each trying to reach it first. Their hands closed on the same spot at exactly the same moment, their fingers intertwining, but the Snitch was gone. They laughed and tried to see where the Snitch had escaped to, but neither took his hand out of the other's grip. In his dream, Harry knew that this was not the first time they had played, and neither was it the last._

When Harry woke, he remembered the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw that was scheduled for shortly after Christmas. He checked his watch. At first it said 'too early, go back to sleep', but after Harry threatened to throw it into a cauldron full of suspicious-looking potion that stood there, it agreed to show the Muggle time. Tuesday, six AM. The Quidditch field was registered for a Ravenclaw practice that day, but surely they wouldn't be there before breakfast.

Harry sneaked out of the infirmary and climbed to the Gryffindor tower. He slipped into his dormitory, careful not to wake the other boys, who were fast asleep. He changed to his Quidditch robes, took his broom and bag of practice balls, and slipped out to the common room.

Harry spent only a moment in the common room, arranging his things more comfortably. Walking quickly, he passed the entrance hall, out the oak doors and off to the Quidditch field. A slight shiver passed through his spine when he descended the great stone stairs, this time going down in a conventional speed.

To his surprise, the Quidditch field was not empty. Two people were on it, but they weren't in the blue and bronze robes of the Ravenclaw team. From the distance, he could see a blur of one airy burgundy robe and one heavy black cloak spinning around one another in a strange looking dance.

Getting closer to them, Harry recognised Krum and Hermione walking across the Quidditch field, holding hands, and constantly switching places. Krum made a genuine effort to keep part of his cloak over Hermione's shoulders. They were so absorbed is this little world of theirs, that they hadn't notice Harry approaching.

Standing only few feet away from them, Harry cleared his throat.

Hermione raised her eyes to him, first startled, and then, as she recognised him, with a visible attempt to stifle a laugh.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "How are you? What are you doing out of bed?" Her gaze turned more serious, "you shouldn't be out here, come on, we'll take you back to the infirmary." She placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," Harry protested. "I came here to practice some snitch captures before the field is seized by the Ravenclaws." He watched her carefully, seeking her approval. Changing the subject seemed like a good idea. "What are you two doing here so early?"

"Oh," Hermione gasped, and unsuccessfully tried to catch Krum's eyes. "We overdid a wakefulness charm."

"You mean you've been here since last night?"

"Er... yes." Krum spoke for the first time. He also seemed to want the subject changed. "I'm still not tired. Do you vant to practice together?"

"Sure," said Harry. His quickly agreed out of politeness, but afterwards he realised the advantages of practising with the world's best Seeker. Having Krum fly high above Hermione also seemed like a good idea. "I'd be honoured," he repeated with a broad smile.

"Vait for me," said Krum, already moving towards the castle. "I vill be bringing my broom, and then ve practice." He didn't wait for a reply before rushing away from them.

For the first time in a week, Harry was left alone with Hermione. He looked at her, trying to see if the change inside her, the one that Krum brought, had left any signs on her appearance. It had. She looked more mature, holding herself with more confidence. Her eyes looked at him from a higher point than he was used to. Was it just him, or was it the fact that she wasn't immersed in a book?

"We miss you," he said quietly.

"Who's we?" she shifted her weight uncomfortably from leg to the other.

"Me. Ron. Everyone in Gryffindor. You seem to spend most of your time with the Slytherins nowadays." He turned his back to her, pretending to look towards the castle. Strong emotions surfaced in him – longing, worry, jealousy. He didn't want her to see his emotions, clearly visible on his face.

Hermione watched Harry's wide back. She was thrown into the memory of his older self, the one she saw in Potions class. She suddenly realised why it was that Malfoy's robes were torn while Harry's remained intact. His shoulders were just as wide as they were under the influence of the potion. He just held them slumped, like folded dragon wings, waiting for the right moment to spread out.

She put a trembling right hand on his left shoulder. "I'm just trying to savour every moment I have with Viktor. He will be gone soon, and then I will have all the time in the world to be with you."

He turned to look at her, his face a reflection of abysmal anguish only inches away from hers. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She was startled by the unknown depth in his emerald eyes, but felt unable to draw back. She lowered her head in an allusive nod.

"I hope you know what you're doing." He walked away from her to greet the returning Krum.

"Me too," she muttered under her breath, thinking he was out of hearing range.

aaaaaaaaaa

Krum released a Snitch, and with the slightest nod towards Harry, mounted his racing broom and kicked into the air. Harry saw the gesture, and kicked off as well. They both circled high above the Quidditch field, their eyes searching the Snitch.

The first to spot something was Krum. Very decisively, he pointed the handle of his broom directly down, and went into a high-speed dive. Harry plunged right behind him, leaning against his broom in an attempt to gather more speed. The wind whistled in his ears and blew into his eyes, swirling around the lenses of his glasses. The wind made it very difficult to see. In fact, so difficult, that as much as Harry tried, he could not see the Snitch.

The ground was getting nearer, and he still could see nothing. He extended his hand in the same direction as Krum did, hoping that by some miracle, his hand would meet the Snitch first. Two feet above the ground, Harry realised that there was no Snitch. For the first time in his life, he fell victim to the Wronski Feint.

He pulled hard on the broom's handle, reversing its one-way plunge by 180 degrees. The broom creaked under the stress of the sharp turn. His whole body cried in protest, wanting to continue with the original momentum. Harry felt the ground getting closer still. He folded his knees to his chest, sitting high on top the broom, his hands gripping the handle firmly, pointing it up. His feet scraped the snow, raising a cloud of ice dust as he passed the lower point of his dive and started rising. He could see that Krum pulled out of the dive a few feet higher, and was now almost back to his original position, circling the pitch.

The Snitch, however, was now visible. It was hanging only a few feet above Harry's head. Krum, who was still climbing to his favourite height, had no chance to get it first. Leisurely, Harry steered his broom to it, his right hand stretched out. A second later, the Snitch was safely clasped in his unwavering fist. Krum had reached the peak of his climb and looked down both to search the Snitch, and to see how Harry was doing. He got both answers with one glimpse of Harry's outstretched hand.

Both Seekers started flying towards one another, meeting somewhere in the middle.

"Very good," said Krum. "I underestimated you. Not many professional Seekers vould have been able to get out of that Feint." He gave Harry an appraising look. "You vant to try again?"

Harry let go of the Snitch as a reply. Immediately it was gone from their sight, celebrating its regained freedom. Both Seekers soared high above the pitch, back to their searches for it.

Very arrogantly, a few minutes later, Harry tried the Wronski Feint on Krum. Naturally, it didn't work, and at the end of the drill, Harry was left to work hard on stabilising his broom, while Krum made a swift move on the reappearing Snitch. They released it again, and again and again.

After each of them got the Snitch three times, Harry spotted the blue and bronze uniform of the Ravenclaw team walking towards the pitch. He pointed them out to Krum, and gave him the signal to get down. They both landed in front of the Ravenclaw team, which was missing a few members due to the Christmas vacation.

"Getting lessons from the best, aye, Harry?" Cho Chang smiled at him. "Not fair!"

"Just getting an early start before you get the field for the day."

"I vill have much fun practicing with you too," Krum assured her. "Just let me get some breakfast. I vill be back soon." He looked at Cho's slowly relenting expression. "You can ride my broom until I return." This had the desirable effect. Cho accepted the Firebolt with shaky hands, and immediately turned away as not to waste any moment she had with this first-class racing broom.

Hermione, Krum and Harry turned towards the castle. "I hope the Snitch ve left there vill not get Cho confused." Krum mused loudly.

"There's no Snitch up there," said Harry, bewildered. "When we got down, I summoned it." He showed Krum the Snitch in his hand.

"Summoned it?" asked Krum, confused. "But I didn't see you use your wand."

"No need to. This is a practice Snitch. When you're done practising, you can just call it back. Very effective, especially if you're having a bad day, or you want to train someone who is... less than perfect."

"But this isn't a practice Snitch."

"Of course it is. All the balls in the bag are practice balls. I got them and the bag from Oliver Wood when he graduated."

"But I didn't take the Snitch from your bag. I haff brought my own Snitch. And it does not haff this 'summon' spell you talk about."

Harry stopped dead in the place and looked at the Snitch, still fluttering against his strong grip. He opened his bag and fumbled in it. A moment later, he pulled out a second Snitch, securely tied in thin golden threads. "But... there must be a summoning spell on this Snitch," he stammered. "I called it..."

"No spell," insisted Krum. "This is an official international league Snitch. It vos tested for any illegal hexes and spells. I vould say that a summoning spell is certainly in that category."

Harry resumed his walk, shaking his head. He could feel Hermione's and Krum's stares in his back, and ignored them. There must have been something wrong with that Snitch.

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Many Slytherins escorted Krum from the Great Hall to the Quidditch field. They all wanted the chance to watch his performances from up close. Cho seemed almost disappointed to see him return, but the potential of having him train her overcame her reluctance to give him back his broom.

Krum seemed to be more lenient with her than he was with Harry. He pulled the Wronski Feint on her as well, but pulled out long before there was any danger that she would hit the ground. Still, the deception worked well, leaving her in serious trouble.

Time after time Krum got the Snitch, every time flying by Cho's side afterwards for several minutes, trying to teach her what she did wrong. She seemed very eager to learn, and took no offence in losing to Krum over and over again. She knew there was no shame in losing to the world's greatest Seeker, especially when he was mounted on a Firebolt. Krum on his side, made any effort not to make her look bad, and to really teach her a few good moves for the upcoming Quidditch event.

Hermione watched the teaching session sitting some distance away from the cheering Slytherins. She experienced a mixture of deep boredom and the beginning of a lingering fatigue from the white night. She never could understand what everyone else saw in Quidditch, although she had to admit that both Viktor and Harry looked very graceful riding their brooms. She made a visible effort to stifle a yawn.

"Oh, that tortured face! Feeling pangs of jealousy watching your boyfriend fly with another girl?" The chilly voice of Malfoy sounded so close to her ear that it sent cold shivers down her spine.

She decided to ignore him. After all, Viktor wasn't there. She had no reason to be nice to a Slytherin. Her tensing body was a clear enough response for Malfoy.

"Right on the spot, wasn't I?" he mocked. Standing behind her, he placed both hands on her shoulders, bent his head down, and whispered the words from a range much too close for Hermione's taste.

She turned sharply, pulling away from his grip. "That's none of your business, Malfoy." Her eyes shot dangerous sparks at him.

"Oh my, I just did something I very rarely do."

"What's that?" she asked, too curious for her own good.

"I made a mistake. Very rare event indeed. You might want to treasure the moment, you're unlikely to ever this happen again." He watched her puzzled scowl with amusement. "You - jealous of Cho. I was wrong. You couldn't care less. In fact, I don't think that you even love him."

"That's absurd!" her cheeks were flushed, and her voice higher than she had intended. She truly hoped that her angry glare concealed her fret that he might be right.

"Is it?" He closed on her with one stride. Without further warning, he held her in his arms and kissed her. This was not a passionate, warm kiss like the ones she shared with Viktor. On the contrary. This was more like a cold assault on her lips.

Her mind swarmed with zealous outcries, but her body obstinately refused to move. She felt a huge Filibuster Firework quivering deep inside her stomach. That firework pulled her deep into the icy whirlpool that was centred in his lips. Force she never knew before held he lips pressed against his, her eyes first open in horror, and then slowly closing as she sank deeper into the unyielding press.

Out of a dream, she felt their lips separate, his hands still grabbing her upper arms. Reality crashed on her with all its horrid ugliness. This was Malfoy who held her a moment ago. She felt as if she forced an ice cube down her throat. A white-hot rage surged inside her, concentrating itself into her right arm, which rose on its own volition, slapping Malfoy hard across the face.

His reaction was swift and cruel - he kissed her again. His lips pressed even harder against hers, forcing them to open. His tongue, hard and cold, explored the depth of her mouth, sending that unrelenting Filibuster Firework in her stomach through a whole new set of somersaults. Feeling her resistance shatter, she wondered if he had chewed on a snowball earlier.

A whistle above their heads made Draco finally let go of her. He only had a glimpse of something large and black before it hit him with all the speed a Firebolt could build. Draco was flung twelve feet back into the empty stadium stands and slid down to the ground. The black figure turned on the spot, and landed by Hermione. 

"Are you all right?" Viktor asked, supporting her faint figure in a bear hug.

Hermione nodded, still too shocked to speak. She drew a deep breath, and then another. The cold air did nothing to wash away the seal of his touch on her. "I think I need a shower," she said in a small, hoarse voice. She dared a glimpse in Malfoy's direction, and shuddered, not by his condition, but by the fear of what he was able to stir up in her.

"We need to get him to the hospital wing."

"After vat he did to you? He can stay here!"

"He will die in this cold."

"He deserves it."

Hermione stared at her love as if seeing him for the first time. The cruel look in his black eyes indicated that he actually meant what he had just said. "You can't mean that," she said, hoping that it was the truth.

His harsh look softened just slightly, allowing his bushy brows to move slightly apart. He turned to Malfoy. With an ungraceful hoist he hurled Malfoy's unconscious body over his broom, and ushered it towards the castle. He paid more attention to his left arm, wrapped around Hermione's waist than to his broom-navigating right hand. This led the broom, and Malfoy on it, to bump into practically anything that was on the way to the castle, including the great oak doors.

aaaaaaaaaa

Yellow-green fire roared in the tall silver grate. Magic made sure that the twisting silver frame was not as much as singed by the flames. The tall pale figure that stood by the fireplace should have been flushed by the heat coming out of it, but not even the slightest pink tinge was visible on his yellow serpentine face. It stared in concentration into the flames, something like a smile decorating the otherwise intimidating expression.

"Master, there are still no news about the boy."

The tall figure turned towards the voice, his raven-black robes swirling to match the swift motion.

"I know."

The hissing voice was hardly audible. It skipped the necessity of going through the ears, and carved itself right into the back of the minion's head. The crouched minion raised his head in surprise.

"My Lord, is this a good thing?"

"It is."

"But Master..." his voice trailed off, his words slashed under the piercing red eyes of his master.

"He simmers now. Slowly drifting towards us. We will make the news known when the time is right."

"Yes Master."

His master turned back to face the fire, his moves slower, more calculated. A large snake uncoiled itself from the darkened corner of two huge shadowy walls. It slithered to its master's feet, hissing as it wrapped itself before his legs.

"Yes, Nagini," hissed Voldemort. "I'm glad that you no longer need to go hungry." He seemed to contemplate on something. "Yes," he added. "He will be quite an acquisition to our side."

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"If you're not out of bed in five minutes I'm going without you," Ginny's voice teased Harry.

He opened one emerald eye and peeped at her. She was already fully dressed in light blue robes, ready to go. Her red hair was tied in a bun above her nape, unable to hold all her perky curls. He felt torn between his desire to stay in the world of his sweet dreams, and wanting to go with her to have a no less rapturous day at Hogsmeade. 

Ginny felt completely free to walk into the boys' dormitory. The others had left for the duration of the Christmas vacation, and the room was now occupied only by her boyfriend and her brother, both too embarrassed to send her off.

"What time are we supposed to be in The Three Broomsticks?" Harry groaned as he sat up in bed.

"Fred and George said they'd be there at eleven."

"We have hours!"

"Well, I've got some shopping to do first."

Harry frowned. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a wonderful Hogsmeade visit day after all.

"I need to get lots of Filibuster Fireworks and firecrackers for our victory party when we beat Ravenclaw."

Than again, maybe it was.

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"Ginny, are you sure you're not overdoing it just a bit?"

Harry never saw so many exploding tricks put together in his life. He and Ron raided Zonko's along with Ginny, but she had filled two large bags just with the fireworks, and had another small bag with tricks she refused t share with them.

"No. This is going to be our first celebration without Fred and George, and I intend to make sure we're going to do it right."

"Even your twin brothers never carried this amount of explosives. One misguided drop of water and the whole of Gryffindor tower will rise sky high! Anyway, you were always the voice of reason in your family. What happened?"

"I kinda miss them..."

Harry couldn't help himself as he saw her sweet pout. He had to collect her in his arms.

"Will you two knock it off?" Ron tried to break the embrace.

"Give your kid sister a break, she's having a sentimental moment."

"Yes Ron, a sentimental moment," repeated Ginny with a wicked smile, burying her head deeper in Harry's chest. His strong and steady heartbeat made her want to stay in his arms just a while longer. Just one more beat... and then one more...

"Oh, look at the time," said Ron loudly. They moved apart, looking at their watches, and then realising they really did need to get going.

They reached The Three Broomsticks before the twins. Ginny went to preserve a table for them, while Ron and Harry got Butterbeer for everyone, including the twins. Ginny looked nervous waiting for her brothers to arrive. She kept rearranging their bottles and moving all other things around the table.

All three jumped out of their seats as Fred and George appeared, escorted by Lee Jordan. Ginny hugged them fiercely, while Ron shook their hands with self-esteem. At that particular moment, Harry mused that he looked just like Percy. Nonetheless, he felt awkward hugging them, and shook their hands a well. 

"I'm sorry, Lee," apologised Harry. "We didn't know you were coming. We didn't get a drink for you."

"That's ok, I'll get one myself. Anyone for a second round?"

"Not yet, thanks."

"Me neither."

Ginny was too busy with the brothers' sitting arrangements to even hear the question. She handed each of her brothers a bottle, and waited.

"So, how's the shop coming along?" asked Harry. It was the money he had given them that allowed them to start the shop in Diagon Alley.

"Grrrr..." Fred tried to say something, but all that came out were baby mumbles.

George pointed at him laughing. "Aaabbooo," he tried to voice his delight, but could speak no better than his twin. This made Fred snap out of his shock and join the laughter.

"Ginny!" exclaimed Ron. "Did you put something in their Butterbeer?"

"Sure," laughed Ginny.

"Way to go, Gin!" Lee Jordan encouraged her. He just got back, carrying his bottle. "I'm glad you didn't get my drink after all."

Ron paled as the idea penetrated through his red hair. "Ginny, you didn't put anything in our drinks, did you?"

"Oh no, just in Fred's and George's. A tiny payback for the last fifteen years."

Still laughing, George pointed his wand to his own head, trying to finish the spell. Instead of "Finite Incantatem" he managed "Fifff ffmmmm". Consequently, instead of removing the mumbling spell, he managed to win himself bran new rabbit ears.

Fred cracked up laughing. George looked at him annoyed, fondling his new fluffy white addition. Then, he pointed his wand at Fred, and got him a matching pair. They both laughed so hard, that they tried to get off their chairs, to avoid later abdominal cramps, only to discover that they couldn't get up. With hand motions they signalled their distress to the rest of the cheering group.

"Ginny, did you do something to their chairs as well?" Harry asked between the howls of laughter.

"Nothing much. Just covered it with invisible liquid Spellotape," Ginny tried to suppress her sniggers.

"So that's what you had in the bag at Zonko's!" called Ron. He looked at her very seriously. "Little sister," he said solemnly, "I never knew you had it in you."

The group was washed into another gale of laughter.

It took them all a while to relax after removing the spells from the twins, but once they did, Ginny and Lee led the conversation around the table to the subject of internal decoration. Lee had just got himself a new apartment, and was very interested in Ginny's opinion on how he should furnish it.

"Er... we need to go," stated Fred. "We have a meeting at Zonko's about supplying pranks to his store."

"Yes!" George agreed. "And we only have two hours to get there."

"And it's hundreds of... inches away," concluded Fred.

"Well, bye, good luck with the... er... sideboard and wall-unit." They both slid out of the bar, not before glaring at Ginny in a way that meant, "We'll get you, yet."

"Ron, how about roaming Honeydukes?" Harry suggested.

"Great idea!" agreed Ron. "Anything but listening to those two," he added in a whisper.

"Ginny?" Harry interjected Ginny's flow. "Should we come back to pick you up?"

Ginny looked from Lee to Harry and back. "No need," Lee answered for her. "I'll get her back to Hogwarts." By the way Ginny's shoulders lost their tension, it seemed that she agreed with that idea.

Ron and Harry got their pockets full of Fizzing Whizbees, sugar quills and chocolate frogs, both wisely avoiding Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. They got back to Hogwarts and sat in the common room, stuffing themselves with their new acquired sweets and playing wizarding chess, to the great annoyance of Harry's pawns. 

"Shouldn't Ginny be back by now?" Harry asked, looking through the tower windows as the dusk taking over the vast grounds outside. With the words still hanging on his lips, the portrait hole opened. In came Ginny, followed by Lee. They were both smiling happily.

"Hi Ron, hi Harry."

"Hi, where have you two been? It's been hours since we left you at The Three Broomsticks."

Harry reached for Ginny with intention to kiss her hello, but missed her as she hastily hopped towards the stairs. She waved Lee to sit and shouted over her shoulder, "I'll be right back!"

Harry turned to Lee, who was watching Ginny disappear up the stairs, a strange vale in front of his eyes.

"We went to look at some linen at Tela's," he answered. He didn't take his eyes away from the entrance to the girls' dormitories until Ginny appeared there, carrying a pile of colourful fabrics. Then, he jumped into one of the overstuffed armchair that filled the common room, trying to look as if he'd been sitting there for a while. He realised that Ron and Harry witnessed his strange behaviours, and blushed deep crimson.

Lucky for him, Ginny's face was hidden behind the pile of fabrics, and she missed the entire charade. Her leg got tangled in a stray ribbon, and the entire heap tilted dangerously. "Can you give me a hand?" she called, her voice muffled by the cloths.

Before Harry or Ron had a chance to react, Lee jumped out of his very new sitting place and took the pile off her hands. Soon after, half the common room, which was usually occupied by Hermione's books, was now covered with colourful fabrics. The common room was taken over by spots, plaids, frills and loose lint. Ron and Harry exchanged terrified looks and dashed towards their dormitory, taking the relieved chess set with them.

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Nibbling on her breakfast on the last day of Christmas vacation, Hermione pondered about the hours of work she had missed by spending time with Viktor. Naturally, she wasn't behind on her work, and thanks to Viktor's help, her homework was done on the very first day of the vacation, but she was used to being more than just 'up to speed'.

The Slytherin table was half-deserted. It was the same for several days, since Malfoy was injured. He was still in the hospital wing, and while the Slytherins didn't openly blame her, she could feel the chill blowing her way. They didn't know all the details of the incident. They just knew that Viktor had hit Malfoy after Malfoy attacked Hermione in some way. There was no change in their attitude towards Viktor. He enjoyed their perpetual awe and respect.

"Can I steal your boyfriend for a few hours?" Cho's chiming voice stopped Hermione's train of thoughts. She raised her head in surprise. Very rarely did a non-Slytherin approach this table. But then again, she was there. Viktor had helped Cho with her game several times the past few days, and Cho was grateful, but still needed lots of work.

"Do you mind if I go to the library while you play?" she asked Viktor, clinging to his arm.

"Of course, my love. Go ahead. I vill come get you ven ve are done."

Hermione left her plate almost untouched, and hurried to make full use of the few hours she had in the library, almost forgetting to kiss Viktor goodbye as she went.

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The dim library was completely deserted. Hermione spilled the content of her bag on an isolated table, and went to get some books. She returned a half-hour later with a pile almost as tall as she, feeling her way back to the table. She sat with the books, reading, and from time to time scrabbling something on the piece of parchment in front of her.

She didn't know how long it had been before she heard the library door open. She found herself wishing this wasn't Viktor. She needed just a little more time with her books. When she saw the boy who came in, she started wishing it had been Viktor after all.

Draco Malfoy stepped inside, totally oblivious to her presence there. His face looked like the whitest canvas, on which an angry painter placed smears of all colours from dark yellow through deep purple and up to total black. Hermione wanted to get out immediately, but so far she had been indiscernible in her corner table. If she got up, she would get his attention.

Malfoy, still seemingly unaware of the storm he was stirring, plunked a single book off a shelf, and sat down reading it. He tried to lean his head on his hand, but winced in pain as the heel of his hand touched one of the larger purple marks.

"What are you staring at?" he spat at Hermione.

Malfoy had given no sign of having seen her so far, and his abrupt statement took her breath away. She also wasn't aware that she had been staring. "I'm not going to tell you that I'm sorry, if that's what you're expecting."

"I wasn't expecting an apology."

"Good. You deserved what you got and more."

"As I recall, you didn't exactly resist." He got up and began advancing towards her. His eyes a mixture of cold rage and warm passion, flashing steel-grey and summer-sky-blue at the same time.

She also got up, drawing away from him. "I was too petrified to move," she lied. Her back hit the bookshelves, and she turned, trying to escape.

He closed on her before she had a chance to move. "It's all your fault, Hermione!" he shouted, and then lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper, his lips an inch away from her ear. "You're the one who made me fall in love with a Mudblood."

She felt a shiver. His breath was cold on her neck. "Is that the best come-on line you can make up?"

"You think this is funny?" his voice was almost a soft whine. "I'm sworn to hate you, and I... can't."

"What do you mean 'sworn to hate me'?"

He drew back a foot, still standing close to her. With a crude motion he peeled away his right sleeve and showed her what hid beneath it. It was a skull. And a snake. Crawling out of its mouth. All drawn in angry red against his nearly translucent skin. Hermione let out a small scream, and then recovered. She looked up, only to see the steel taking over the summer in his eyes.

"Did you paint this on your hand?"

"No." He paused to examine her reaction. "It is not something you can wash away with soap."

"Are you a de... A Death..."

"A Death Eater? Let's say I'm a very likely candidate. This really doesn't go well together." There was fathomless sadness in his voice.

He looked so lost that she completely forgot herself. Her mind chose to ignore the menacing red sign in front of her, and focus on his eyes. A small war seemed to take place in there – a tidal wave of gushing blue water attacking an unwavering cliff of ice.

He placed both his hands on her upper arms, pulling her closer, away from the shelves. She felt her chin rising to let her lips meet his. It was like a giant hand guided her movements. She could feel his cold breath against her face, feel his pounding heart, running a race against her own. In his eyes, the gushing water seemed to get the upper hand -

The door to the library opened again, and this time it was Viktor. Malfoy turned to face him, smoothing his sleeve back to place.

"Is he bothering you again?" Viktor asked, having narrowed the gap between them in two seconds. He held the front of Malfoy's robes, his fist ready to be used.

Hermione hesitated for a moment. "No," she said. "He just wanted to apologise."

Viktor let go of Malfoy's robes. "Did you?" he asked incredulously.

With a very arrogant air, Malfoy straightened his robes, took his single book, and left the library without saying a word. Viktor kept a constant eye on him until the door closed behind his back.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Hermione nodded, wondering if she had imagined the last few minutes. But she could still feel his breath, chilly and very much real against her skin. More real than anything in this room right now. She would definitely need another shower.

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The first day of winter term was marked by students returning to the castle, carrying new items they got as Christmas gifts, and running around like crazy, trying to readjust to the Hogwarts pace.

The very first lesson of the term was Care of Magical Creatures. As they walked outside the castle, Harry noticed that any affection that might have existed between Hermione and the Slytherins disappeared the moment Krum was not around. The change in her, if any, seemed to make her even more hostile towards Malfoy than ever.

"You think we'll have to care for the Blast Ended Skrewts again?" Ron voiced Harry's concerns. During the first term, they learned about dragons, which, for obvious reasons, was only a theoretical study. At the end of term, Hagrid promised them more practical lessons when they come back from the holiday leave.

"Can't be," Harry tried to convince both of them. "There's only one Blast Ended Skrewt left."

"Yes, but that one is enough work for all of us."

_True_, thought Harry. That Skrewt was held in a special pen near Hagrid's pumpkin beds behind his cabin. It was already over twenty feet long, and kept growing at an alarming rate. Still, none of them could figure what it was feeding on.

Hagrid radiated joy at the sight of his favourite trio. "Come, come," he greeted them. "Today I have a special treat for you." 

"Oh no, I know Hagrid's 'special treats'," Harry heard Malfoy sneer behind him. "He probably got us a live Norwegian Ridgeback." He slapped Crabbe and Goyle on their backs, casually pushing them in front of him. "He'll probably call it 'cute'," he continued his jeer.

Harry and Ron exchanged worried glances. "Neh," Ron dismissed Malfoy's idea. Harry nodded his agreement.

"The magical creatures I will present to ye today are truly among the mos' magnificen' creatures in existence," Hagrid started his presentation. "They posses the mos' magical bodies among the small creatures..."

Sighs of relief could be heard all throughout the grounds around Hagrid's cabin.

Hagrid pulled a large cage with something brown moving on its floor. "These are not called 'Miniature Dragons' fer nothin'," he said, looking fondly into the cage.

Lavender brown released a scream of terror, and Pansy Parkinson simply fainted without making a sound. All the other kids backed away.

"Hagrid," Hermione began to talk to him using the same patient, quivering tone people use to negotiate armed terrorists, "Those are roaches in that cage. Hundreds of roaches."

"Magical Creatures, Subdivision Dictyoptera Order Blattaria," corrected her Hagrid.

"Cockroaches," stated Malfoy persistently.

"In other words."

"What are we supposed to do with them?"

Hagrid opened the cage and released them to the sound of shrieks and legs shuffling on the snow to get away. "Yer supposed te observe how difficult it is ter capture them using magic. Their shells are almos' as reflective and impenetrable as dragon hide." He looked benignly at the brown spots on the snow, scramming away from him. "Be careful with the spells ye use. Don' use anythin' ye'll regret if it bounces back."

The fifth-years spread out in an attempt to catch as many of the gross brown creatures as they could. Very shortly, they saw Hagrid's point about their shells. Within thirty seconds, half the Slytherins were stupefied by their own spells, which bounced back at them, while the Gryffindors, who tried the more moderate methods first, where moving in very slow motion.

Harry noticed that the spells didn't necessarily bounced to their sender. He pointed that out to Ron, who immediately saw the potential. Ron aimed a tickling charm at a cockroach somewhere in between him and Malfoy. Malfoy never knew what hit him. By the time he stopped squirming from the spell, too many Gryffindors were watching him with amused expressions. He couldn't tell which one of them was responsible.

"You should have used something stronger," Hermione whispered to Ron.

Ron felt the small hairs at the back of his neck stand still. He didn't hear Hermione's voice for so long, he almost forgot how nice it was. "I wasn't sure where it would hit. I just hoped it would be that sly snake." His voice was very apologetic.

"O' right," Hagrid's voice thundered above the kids' heads. "The lesson is over. Some of ye who weren't stupified, please help me collect the missin' roaches. The rest of yu are free ter go."

Everyone but Harry Ron and Hermione turned to leave. "Malfoy!" boomed Hagrid's voice. "It is abou' time ye stay to help fer once." He looked menacingly at the pale boy.

Malfoy turned on his heel, making Crabbe and Goyle stop as well. He sent pale blue daggers at Hagrid, but Hagrid's gaze was unrelenting. Finally, Malfoy folded under Hagrid's firm stare. He signalled Crabbe and Goyle to stay and help too.

Harry's desire to get back to the castle helped him overcome his initial disgust. He began collecting the escaped bugs with his hands. Although his hands sank in the snow up to the elbows, he obstinately kept his shirtsleeves down, and only folded the sleeves of his robes. He realised he must have looked ridiculous, but this was better than exposing the mark on his forearm.

On his way to place the stepped-on roaches by the cage, he realised that all three remaining Slytherins had their sleeves pulled down as well. He toyed with a dangerous idea for a moment. After all, all their fathers were Death Eaters. _No_, he hushed the thought. _That can't be. There are no Death Eaters in Hogwarts. They must have some other reason for leaving their sleeves down. They are probably just too dumb to think about pulling them up. But then again, I'm here_. The internal voice shushed him again, _you are no Death Eater._

Malfoy approached the cage, eyeing the dead roaches in Harry's hands suspiciously. "I think we got them all," he said, trying to put as much enmity into the innocent words.

"I think we did," agreed Harry, overcoming his hostility in favour of finishing the chore and getting back to the warmth of the castle.

Malfoy threw his catch into the cage. He turned his back to Harry and moved away as Hermione and Ron approached carrying their loot. They both tossed the dead roaches into the cage, grimacing with disgust. They carried the cage over to Hagrid.

"Here Hagrid," the presented him the cage. "We got them all."

Hagrid took one look at the cage, his jaw dropping and a miserable wail escaped his throat.

"Hagrid? What happened?"

Hagrid pointed at the cage, unable to speak. Another wail escaped the deep of his throat.

Hermione surmised the problem first. "You didn't mean us to kill them, did you?" she tried.

Hagrrid's huge head nodded enthusiastically. 

"Oh, Hagrid, I'm so sorry. We didn't realise that."

"We just saw cockroaches, and we assumed... you know."

"That we should step on them..."

All three of them turned their backs to the hut and ran away. They've been with Hagrid through some difficult times, but helping him mourn over cockroaches was too much. They stopped running only as they reached the entrance hall.

Hermione wheezed from the run, and leaned on Harry's arm until she caught her breath. She drew her hand back in surprise. "Harry! Your shirt is soaking wet!"

"Yeah, I know. Some of those roaches were trenched deep in the snow."

"Honestly, you should try folding your sleeves next time. Here –" she reached to fold it for him.

Harry drew back in horror. "No," he said, a little too hastily. "I'll go change. You go ahead and get a head start on lunch. I'll be right down." He walked away, wondering how long he would be able to hide this atrocity from his two best friends.

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Read? Review!

A/N:  
That's it. The next chapter is called: "When Darkness Lurks". That is, if this chapter gets enough reviews.

Thanks to:  
The Padded One: You win 5 points to your house! It is now obvious to whom Krum is drawn.  
H/C FOREVER!!, Nick, Elyssa, The Game: I don't know who Hermione will end up with. So far it doesn't look good for any of the candidates.  
Cassandra Claire: for the kind words and the permission to use the phrase. Things got a little out of hand, and it will be put to use (including knocking myself out) only at the end of the next chapter. (If I'll ever write it).  
Draco's Girl: for your lovely and informative reviews. I'll take your remarks and requests into careful consideration.  
Eloria: for making me smirk madly for half a day.  
Sanna: I never said I wouldn't H/D. I don't know who Hermione ends up with. Ginny doesn't look awful. She only looks caricaturised when Malfoy looks at her. Can't say that this has the potential to turn as soapish as you described, but who knows.  
The Great Hermione Fan: for the wonderful compliments. By your name, I hope you're not offended by the way I represent Hermione. I know I am.  
Mina: You also win 5 points for your house. Don't they make the best couple? Are you serious about Voldie? I've seen fics that describe him as a human. You might want to look them up.  
Victor'sGurl: I wouldn't dream of putting him with Pansy. What is m/m slash? Never saw one. Thanks for putting so much into your review.  
Lizzy/Tygrestick, Chinook: special thanks for making the effort to review and give kind words even though you didn't know what to say.

24


	5. When Darkness Lurks

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 5**_

_When Darkness Lurks_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Dark-Mark Death-Eaters Lucius D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Harry goes from bad to worse. Again, he needs to trust Malfoy with his life. This chapter explains why my Malfoy is unlike all the other goody-two-shoes Malfoys that run rampant around the HP fandom.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
All, Right, I guess a HUGE explanations is in order. I very stupidly assumed that you've all read 'HP and the Unforgivable Curses', only because that is the better fic. If you had, you'd know that the main reason I write is to refine my English and my writing style. (As a non-native English speaker). Getting good reviews gives a wonderful feeling, but I am here for the judicious flames. If I don't get them, than there's really no point for me to keep on writing. Well, since I'm such a considerate person (ha!) I'll give one more chance.

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The black walls towered high above the chamber, their darkness so deep that it threatened to swallow all the light coming from the silver fireplace. The evil green flames fought forcefully and were victorious over a small area of the room.

Someone tall and pale stood in the pool of green light, his presence so murky that the light seemed to pass around him, disobeying the laws of physics just to avoid this so-called man. The tall wizard stared into the green fire. In the flames, he could see a large room with four long tables and a fifth table smaller separated from the rest. His eyes focused on one of the tables, and the image zoomed in to follow his stare. Finally, the image fixed on one dark-haired boy. The boy looked around as if he felt the eyes resting on him. A lightening-shaped scar was clearly visible on his forehead as he turned about.

A small, crooked man entered the lit circle, the green flames giving his skin a sallow complexion. His voice screeched when he asked, "Why don't you call him, Master?"

Without taking his eyes off the fire, his master grabbed the hunched man's left arm. He held it fiercely, causing his minion to twist with pain, but still no muscle moved in the master's serpentine face. "Observe," he hissed.

The Dark Lord stripped the minion's forearm. The Dark Mark was clear as blood on his bare skin. Voldemort's long white finger pressed on his own trademark on the other wizard's hand. The mark turned black under his touch, sending new waves of pain through its bearer's body. Voldemort took his finger away, and repeated the single word, "observe."

They both watched the boy's reflection inside the flames. He looked frantically around him, absentmindedly scratching his left arm. He finally leaned back in his chair, sending one hand to his forehead, as if suffering from an annoying headache.

The yellow-slit eyes finally tore away from the green fire. Immediately, the image of the room and the boy in it had dispersed. The flames regained their almost normal yellow-red colour. "You see, my dear Wormtail, why I cannot call the boy?" The hissing voice turned extremely vicious. "The boy's will is too strong to even let him feel my claim. No, we need to break his spirit first."

Wormtail grimaced as he started catching on. "And his fighting spirit will be broken once he kills one of his friends?"

"Exactly." The softness of this hiss was more terrifying than a thousand thunderstorms.

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"Harry? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, Hermione. What are you doing here? I thought you were having breakfast with your Slytherin friends."

Hermione ignored the hinted insult. "I've had. I've been standing here for five minutes, waiting for you, but you just clasped at your scar and looked right through me."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled. "I was just day-dreaming." He got up, determined to ignore the surging pain in his head and the scrutinising looks of his friends. "Lets go."

Both Ron and Hermione eyes him suspiciously, but followed him out of the Great Hall.

"Where is your boyfriend? I thought he'd escort you to class."

"He stayed behind to give Cho Chang some last-minute advice for tomorrow's game. I really think he likes her." She said the last sentence with less emotion than she had when she talked about her homework.

"Doesn't that bother you?" asked Ron, clearly more excited than she. He wasn't sure if what he felt was anger at Krum, who dared even the implication of hurting Hermione, or glad that Hermione didn't really seem to care.

"Why should it?" Hermione said naively. "I like you, and it doesn't bother him."

Ron's ears burned bright red. Of course, he knew she liked him. After all, he was one of her best friends, but hearing her say that was a completely different game. He mumbled something unclear even to himself, and rushed forward in an attempt to hide his flushed face from scrutinising eyes.

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A very happy chatter could be heard over the Gryffindor end of the class when it turned out that Snape was not back from Christmas vacation. In his place, as usual, was Madam Pomfrey.

"Hello class," Madam Pomfrey greeted them with all the energy gathered in the two-week vacation. "Preserving the holiday spirit a while longer, we will prepare an all-poison antidote made of Allheal."

"Allheal?" Harry whispered a question, knowing that Hermione will have the answer.

"A highly magical healing plant," Hermione whispered back the answer. "You might know it as Mistletoe."

A/N: If you want to read more about the Allheal/Mistletoe Celtic myths, go to http/

Harry spent most of double Potions watching Malfoy and being very amused.

"Look how pathetic that Malfoy is," he shared his thoughts with Ron and Hermione. "He keeps pretending that he doesn't want to kiss Pansy Parkinson, and yet he keeps kissing her. Why does he do that?"

"He doesn't have much choice," said Hermione knowledgeably. "She keeps holding the mistletoe over their heads."

"What?" laughed Harry. "Just because she does this?" he held the squashed residue of his mistletoe high, obscurely shading him and Hermione.

Hermione paled instantly. She tried to answer Harry, but all she managed was a gape. 

"Harry!" said Ron with a shocked voice.

"What?!" retorted Harry, as he started taking his hand down.

"No!" called Ron. He grabbed Harry's hand halfway down with strength Harry didn't know he possessed, and then pulled it back up, forcing it over Harry and Hermione's heads. 

"What did you do that for?" Harry asked angrily. Ron managed to grab his arm exactly over the painful mark. He wrestled to release it.

"Stop squirming! You're going to get one of you killed!" Harry was so astonished by Ron's statement that he actually forgot about his raised hand. "Don't you know about the mistletoe curse?"

"What curse?"

"Unless you kiss Hermione, one or both of you will end up killing each other. I hope we weren't too late. You didn't really take your hand down, did you?"

Harry shook his head with uncertain slowness. He wasn't sure he believed Ron's story, but Ron had a terrible grave expression. "I've never heard of this curse. How long does it take to take effect? How come muggles don't suffer from it?"

Hermione finally found her voice. "The more magic you posses, the stronger the effect is. This is why muggles only end up killing each other years and years after they've made the mistake of ignoring the mistletoe. For wizards and witches, it's much faster. Anything between a day and a couple of years."

Harry turned white to match Hermione's colour. He suddenly became very aware of Ron's hand holding his. He looked at it numbly. "You've got to kiss her," Ron said, tightening his grip on Harry's arm.

There was nothing in the world except Hermione's frightened and yet expectant eyes. The pain Ron's hold was causing him was just something to be ignored. Very slowly, Harry tilted his head, and laid a small, short, obligatory peck on Hermione's lips. He drew back almost before touching her.

The brief touch burned his lips like a serpent's bite. Hermione's rich brown eyes blinked slowly, as if trying to erase the memory. She was still very white and she was slightly trembling. Harry reached with his right hand and pushed away a strand of hair from her eyes. There was something in the air between them that simply wouldn't let him look away.

Hermione had too much experience with captivating kisses in the last few days. With great effort, she tore her eyes away from Harry, and forced them to look at her potion. Breaking the eye contact helped Harry to his senses as well. He realised that Ron was no longer holding him, and let his hand drop beside him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled almost to himself, as he glared at Seamus and Dean who where chuckling irrepressibly.

"That's -" Hermione wanted to say that it was ok, but her voice trailed off.

"Harry?" Madam Pomfrey's voice shook him out of his daydream. He looked up at her. "Are you having problems with your arm?" Harry only now noticed that he was rubbing his forearm, where Ron held it, and where he had his horrible mark.

"Er, no. My arm is fine. Just a bruise from yesterday's practice," he said hurriedly, not wanting her to see the mark.

"Let me look at it," said Madam Pomfrey. "I can probably fix it for you with a simple spell." She touched Harry's arm, ready to pull down his sleeve.

"No!" called Harry and immediately regretted it. He didn't want to sound too feverish about it. "It's just a simple bruise, really," he said in a calmer voice. "If I can't handle this one on my own, I won't be able to take any Bludgers in a real game."

"So," said Madam Pomfrey with an amused tone, "this is a boys' toughening thing?" she smiled at Harry.

Harry accepted the offered escape with open arms. He nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Well, if you change your mind, my wand is always ready." Madam Pomfrey smiled again, and when Harry said nothing, she left. In the very short time that was left, Harry was careful not to even touch the mistletoe and not to rub his sore arm.

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Draco was forced to kiss Pansy Parkinson two more times before the end of Potions class. Eventually, he thought that there was no point in trying to stop the curse, because he was going to kill her anyway. He was all too aware of Hermione deliberately not looking at him. Draco watched with wild jealousy as Potter held the mistletoe over their heads, and then felt bitter amusement as he saw the git miss his chance to kiss her properly. Good. There was still an opening to Hermione's heart.

Draco realised that this situation could not last. He couldn't spend the rest of the school year fuming over a Mudblood. This had to stop. As he saw it, it was very likely he could make her his own. Her reaction to his kisses was undeniable. There was passion in the way she returned his courting. There was a lustrous spark between them. The question was, did he really want her?

Sure, he was in love with her. He wanted to spend every possible moment with her. He pretended to be interested in that self-righteous Krum just to keep close to her. But was she really meant for him? Who'd ever heard of a Malfoy and a Mudblood?

Maybe he should just forget about her. But how _could_ he forget about her? Every time he closed his eyes, there she was, looking at him lovingly with her large honey-shaded eyes, her shiny hair like polished copper, flourishing in a gentle wind, lashing at his face. Every time he closed his eyes he could smell her, feel her and hear her voice. And it was chiming like a Veela song. This most definitely had to stop.

Draco knew what he must do. He had a few minutes to spare before he had to be in the History of Magic class. He ran up to the owlery and called upon his personal eagle owl. He scratched a few words on a piece of parchment, his natural tidiness making it look like a real letter, and tied the note to the owl's leg. The owl left through the window the moment he was done. That would fix it. His father would be here, probably as soon as the next weekend. He had asked for his advice.

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Seamus and Dean kept laughing all the way to charms, their chuckles only worsening the closer they got to the class. Harry tried to get out of their line of fire, but they wouldn't let him out of their sight. Extremely annoyed, he chose a seat at the back of the class, far away from Hermione, hoping that this would end their excitement, but it didn't help.

Harry concentrated on performing the anti-levitation charm Professor Flitwick showed them. Gradually, the boys' chuckles became choked, and then completely vanished. To Harry's great discomfort, he discovered they were watching him with their mouths hanging open.

By the time the lesson ended, Harry was quite capable of causing all the balloons floating in his vicinity to sink like stones to the ground. Enthusiastically, Harry started bombing the entire class with the spell, sending all floating balloons to the ground. Several of the fallen balloons were over-impacted by the spell, and cracked the floor pavements where they hit them.

After the third flagstone cracked with the crashing sound, something extremely odd had happened. Harry's wand had turned into a limb rubber rat. Harry gaped at it, not knowing how to react to the odd phenomenon. He showed Ron the transformed wand, which aroused an even stranger reaction. Ron started laughing ebulliently. He relaxed a little when he saw the irritated look on Harry's face, and exclaimed, "Someone switched your wand to a fake one. Who touched your wand in the last few minutes?"

Harry kept scowling at Ron until Ron finally stopped laughing. "No one," he said, after giving it a serious consideration.

"You must have," Ron insisted. "This is definitely one of the fake wands from the workshop of Fred and George. I recognise their work."

"Well, I didn't let my wand out of my sight since -" Harry strained his brain to remember when was the last time he didn't have his wand. Then he remembered, and blushed all over. The last time he let go of his wand was when he kissed Hermione. "Since potions," he mumbled.

"Can't be! You can't do magic with a fake wand!"

"Well this must be a faulty fake wand then!"

"You just can't remember when you let it down!"

Dean shook himself out of his shock. He and Seamus had watched with growing astonishment as Harry used the fake wand they slipped him when he was too busy kissing Hermione to notice. They started believing that the wand they gave him was a real one, when it suddenly turned into the rubber rat it was supposed to transform to after three of four spells. Dean rushed to break the fight that was beginning to take form between Harry and Ron. He grabbed Harry by the arm, and dragged him out of the class in front of the astonished eyes of professor Flitwick and the rest of the students. Seamus and Ron rushed after them, closely followed by Hermione.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry shook Dean off him while still holding on to the limp grey rubber figure.

"I'm the one who switched your wand," said Dean, wanting to get Harry's attention.

"What did you do that for?"

"I'm sorry, but just forget about it for now,' he watched Seamus as he stood beside him. "What's important is that we did it in the middle of Potions."

"So?" said Harry, not understanding why this was supposed to make him forgive Dean for the trick. He got no answer, and looked around him at the four stunned faces. Hermione's wore an extremely shocked expression.

"Don't you realise what this means?" Seamus finally managed to blurt.

"That you tried to play a trick on me, and now I'm gonna find a way to get back at you?" said Harry mockingly.

Seamus shook his head with desperate eagerness. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and turned him to face her. "Harry, a fake wand is not designed to channel as much magic as you used during the last hour and a half."

"Well, go to Fred and George with that complaint. I'm not to blame that your trick didn't work properly."

"You don't get it, do you?" Hermione's eyes were so wide that they reflected the few sunrays that managed to penetrate the dim castle's corridor. "This wand couldn't have been the problem. You simply weren't using it to channel any magic."

"But I have! I actually managed to master this charm. For once, I did what I was supposed to do in class." 

"I have a crazy idea," began Hermione. "Try to use the fake wand to do the charm again."

For the first time, Harry took a good look at the grey rubbery thing in his hand. "Use this?" he sneered. "What do you want me to do with it? Hit the balloon silly?"

"Just do it," sighed Hermione.

"Whatever you say," agreed Harry to the strange experiment. He pointed what could have been considered the tip of the rubber rat to an escaped balloon, and said, "_gravis_". The balloon kept drifting away undisturbed.

"Do it again," urged Hermione.

Harry eyes her suspiciously, but tried it again anyway. The balloon ignored him completely.

"You're not concentrating!"

"Concentrating on what?! This is a rubber duck!" Harry waved the limp grey thing in front of Hermione's face. "You want to get magic out of it, you do it!"

Hermione sighed again, and moved both her hands through her hair, gloomily lowering her head. She was too busy staring at her shoes to notice that Charms was over and almost got run-down by the Gryffindors exiting the class.

"Are you coming to supper?" Harry asked her, determined to ignore the events of the last few minutes.

"Sure."

"Er - Dean?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I have my wand back now?"

"I'm sorry. Here."

Harry took his wand, and this time he made sure that it was the real McCoy.

aaaaaaaaaa

The morning of the Quidditch match, Harry led his team into the Great Hall for breakfast to the sound of cheers from all the Gryffindors. He urged his players to eat, and found that he too was able to have a reasonable breakfast. By now, he was willing to admit that it was mainly because Krum was busy giving Cho Chang some last minute advice, and Hermione sat to eat beside him at her appropriate place.

"I wish you were on the Quidditch team with us," Harry whispered to Ron, not wanting to upset the other team players. "I know you would have been the best player on the team."

"There are enough Weasleys playing Quidditch," retorted Ron. He and Harry had had this conversation dozens of times before. They both knew it would lead to absolutely nothing. They finished their breakfast and headed to the field together, departing paths only when they reached the stands where Ron was left alone to watch the game.

Harry stepped into the dressing room. He struggled to keep his head in the match. If he, the team captain, couldn't do it, then who would? Disturbingly, his mind kept drifting towards the horrible thing on his forearm. He was afraid that in the heat of the game, his sleeve might be pulled up, exposing his terrible secret.

Usually, for the actual games, the players only wore their Quidditch robes and shorts underneath, just in case. This time, harry wore a long sleeved undershirt, and felt extremely warm. He knew that as the game proceeded, he would get even warmer, and would probably look ridiculous. But then again, being ridiculous was a whole lot better than being a Death Eater.

"This is our first game as a team," he began his well- anticipated captain's speech. "We had plenty of practice, and I truly believe we have a great team." He made his best effort to sound reassuring. Every time he was in these situations, he wondered what Wood would have said. Oliver Wood tended to refer to each of the players in his speeches. All right, then.

"Lizy, Andrea, Seamus," Harry said, referring to the three teams Chasers. "You make sure we score at least three goals more than the Ravenclaws. We need to win this game by at least 180 points to have a good go at the cup."

"Dennis," Dennis Creevey jumped to attention. Harry tried hard not to laugh. "You're a great Keeper. Just make sure you keep your eyes on the Quaffle."

He turned his gaze to the Beaters, who where busy with last minute bat polishing. "Mathew, Dean, you know your job. Just be careful not to make any fouls. We don't want to give Ravenclaw any free throws."

Harry searched his brain for anything else he could say, but "and I'll do my best not to kill you," didn't seem appropriate. "And you'll catch the Snitch, like you always do," piped up Dennis, looking at Harry with adoring eyes. "You have the only Firebolt on the field." The others nodded their heads approvingly.

As they stepped onto the field, it turned out that Harry didn't have the only Firebolt after all. They went out of the dressing room just in time to watch Krum ceremonially hand his broom to Cho Chang. They both flashed triumphant smiles at the scowling Gryffindor team, looking as if this unpleasant surprise had already won the game for Ravenclaw.

The game began with the fourteen players and Madam Hooch kicking off the ground. Harry and Cho opened a large gap from the others, ushering their Firebolts high above the rest of the game. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"What made you give Chang your Broom?" Hermione asked annoyed. After all, she was still a Gryffindor, and wanted her house to win.

Viktor was so engrossed in a heated argument with Mandy Brocklehurst who was acting as the Ravenclaw Quidditch team manager that he hardly even noticed Hermione speaking.

"I'm telling you, she should wait to get the Snitch only after we are thirty points ahead."

"And I'm telling you – if she has a chance, she should get it. She's not dat good."

"She has your Firebolt!"

"And Harry has his."

"Yours is better."

"Not that much better. Listen –"

At that point, Hermione decided to retire to a more secluded point and read the book she'd brought with her. She knew Quidditch matches could last a very long time, and that Viktor would be interested in the game. How much so she never imagined, but in any case a book was something she brought to all Quidditch matches.

Hermione was already immersed in reading about how Herlistiny the magnificent led the first mission ever to capture a live dragon when she heard shuffled steps beside her. Who would come to this side of the stands? The game was almost completely hidden from this area. This was why Hermione chose this specific remote point. She looked up and felt relieved. Who was she afraid it would be anyway?

"Hi Ginny."

"Oh, hi Hermione. What are you doing here?" Ginny looked a bit surprised to find someone at this unfriendly section of the stands.

Hermione lifted her book for Ginny to see. "Oh, you're reading 'Witches who changed the world.' That's a nice one. My mum used to read it for me when I was a child."

"Well, we didn't have this kind of book at home when I was a child," Hermione laughed, embarrassed. This obviously _was_ a children's book. "What are you doing here by yourself? This is the first I've seen you without Lee since the trip to Hogsmeade."

Ginny looked away in a feeble attempt to hide her slight blush. "McGonagall asked Lee to act as commentator for the game. You know, for old time's sake. I can see Harry from here, and truthfully, I don't much care about the rest of the game. I got an especially long letter from my mum this morning, and I think I'll use this opportunity to read it."

"Not to waste any time with Lee?" Hermione teased her, and got her reward in the form of a very thick letter which struck her shoulder. "Old time's sake, huh? He was the commentator for every single game until the end of last year. Not very old those 'old times'." Despite her taunting, Hermione exerted her ears to hear Lee. Until now, she paid no heed to anything that concerned the game, and didn't notice who was the commentator.

"And Hatton scores! It's now 20-10 to Gryffindor!"

"Jordan, I'm impressed," Came McGonagall's disembodied voice. "You're actually impartial."

Hermione smiled encouragingly at Ginny and turned her attention back to her book. Herlistiny's adventures were far more interesting.

Both girls were immersed in their reading, when Ginny suddenly released a deep sigh as she rolled down the scroll of her mom's letter.

"What is it, Gin?" Hermione asked, resting the book on her knees.

"Nothing new," groaned Ginny. "Dad turned down another offer for promotion." She looked at Hermione, and suddenly, everything she held inside just burst out in a series of whines and harsh complaints. Hermione had a hard time following her, considering that she was not really the target of the blurt, but she did manage to catch "can't let go of stupid muggle artefacts", "never enough money", and "Percy already holds a higher position" in the reek of words.

After pouring out everything she had, Ginny leaned back, looking far more relaxed than ever. Her face slowly began to lose the flush it took when she spoke passionately, and her heart rate slowly got back to normal. She looked at Hermione, thankful for her attentive-interested look. There was no jeer in her somewhat shocked expression, which made Ginny extra-grateful.

"Hermione?"

"Er. Yes Ginny?"

"What is this thing you're wearing?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. She looked down on her colourful thick cloak. The large brown and tan patterns stared back at her. "This was a gift from Viktor. I thought I should wear it at least once. Be nice to him."

"This is extremely nice of you. You look like you wrapped an extremely cheerful Persian rug around yourself."

Hermione's face took on an extremely vivid shade of crimson. "So you never wear the things Harry gives you just to make him happy?"

"No. Never had to make that choice, actually. I guess he's just not the type to buy me clothes."

"And jewellery?" Hermione remembered with a tremor the emoplifier Viktor had given her. Her refusal to put it on was the main reason she consented to wearing this ridiculous cloak. At least this cloak didn't fill her with rampant emotions.

"No. He's not the type for that either. He's more of a flowers and candy kind of guy."

"That's boring," stated Hermione with surprise.

"The last thing you could call Harry is boring. He's just not that good with romantic gifts." Ginny sank into pondering. "I think that romantic gifts have to come from deep inside your heart. If you can't reach deep enough, than you will never find the right thing to give."

"What are you talking about? Harry adores you!"

"I honestly think that's not true. Oh, don't look so sad. I'm not sure about how I feel about him either. I think I may have rushed into our relationship with somewhat childish enthusiasm. Maybe it's time to grow up."

"Lee Jordan wouldn't have anything to do with it, would he?"

Ginny managed to keep an almost normal colour, except for her ears, which flushed with embarrassment. She decided to shift the conversation away from her. "What about you and K- Viktor? You seem so inseparable these last three weeks. What will you do when he goes back to Bulgaria?"

"I don't know if that would be such a bad thing," Hermione sighed from the bottom of her heart. "I know he loves me, even though he did spend more time with Cho than with me this last week." She sighed again, and told Ginny all about the emoplifier.

"Oh, I'm sorry," was Ginny's response, although she didn't seem too bothered about it. "At least you won't have to wear these dreadful robes again."

They were both jolted out of their laughter by shouts coming from all around the stands. They listened to Lee's voice as it was carried above their heads.

"They are both plunging towards the Snitch as fast as their Firebolts will take them!"

The crowd screamed with excitement.

"They'd better know what they're doing, because they're getting awfully close to the ground in a dangerously high speed - Aaarrgh!"

Lee's voice was abruptly cut off by McGonagall's terrified shout and then her cries to get Madam Pomfrey immediately on the pitch for the crashed Seeker.

aaaaaaaaaa

Ron sat amid the Gryffindor crowd and tried to concentrate on the game. He loved Quidditch, and it annoyed him that he couldn't follow the game. His mind was on the letter he had got from his mother that morning. Ron was used to getting letters from his mother every week. By now, he figured, he should have also been used to hearing about his father rejecting promotions, but he hadn't. Maybe the fact that wearisome Percy now held a higher position in the ministry than his father did made this specific rejection extremely annoying.

He started searching with his eyes for Ginny. Maybe talking with her about it would make it a little more acceptable. Finally, he spotted her in the most remote section of the stands, reading something that looked a lot like his own letter from mum. Good. Than she too would want to talk about it.

It took Ron a few minutes to plod his way through the crowded Gryffindors and get to where Ginny was sitting. She was busy talking to Hermione, and didn't notice him coming from the seats above her. He meant to draw her attention, but something Hermione said caught his ear.

"I'm sure I don't feel about him the same way he does about me -"

Ron simply had to know whom she was talking about. His heart twisted with fear when he thought she might be talking about him. Gradually, during the last three years, Ron learned that his feelings for her were much more intense than he was willing to admit to anyone but himself, but surely she didn't mean to say that she didn't care for him as a friend either.

The petrifying fear made Ron's legs crumple underneath him, and he sat hard on the stands, four feet above the two girls, and listened. Very quickly he discovered that Hermione was talking about Krum, and let out the breath he was holding in. Still, he found that he couldn't bring himself to stop listening in on their conversation. Hermione wasn't in love with Krum. She was still debating about it, but he was absolutely sure. Good. There was still an opening to Hermione's heart.

An uproar in the stands caught his attention. He looked at the pitch, and saw Harry and Cho diving in top speed towards a small glint dangerously close to the ground. He looked at them intently, as Cho, mounted on Krum's slightly more advanced broom, was able to gain a small advantage over Harry. She was only a few inches ahead of him, but that would be enough to win the game.

Harry didn't hear the whistle of the wind any more. He didn't hear the cheers and cries of the spectators, nor had he heard Lee's frantic comments in the magical megaphone. He didn't see anything either, except for the small glitter near the ground and Cho who was gaining on him.

Harry leaned forward. He was virtually upside down, lying on his broom handle with his head pointing to the ground. Inch by inch he managed to close the gap between he and Cho, but she still had the advantage, and they were now a very short distance away from the Snitch, and only a few more feet to the ground.

Harry didn't want to get the Snitch now that Gryffindor was only ten points ahead, but he certainly didn't want Cho to get it. He sent his right hand forward, leaning further down in the hope to use his longer arms to cover for Cho's advantage, when he suddenly lost control over his left arm - the arm that was still holding on the broom - the arm carrying the Dark Mark.

The mark on Harry's forearm turned into a source of agony, and Harry's arm cramped. The broom was carried sharply to the left, right into Cho's ribs. Cho was knocked off her broom and crashed into the ground before Harry had a chance to even try to catch her. Her, or rather, Krum's broom kept its current course, and sank a foot into the mud some distance away from her.

Harry managed to get control over his broom just as he was about to his the ground as well. He jumped off his broom and rushed to Cho, skidding on his knees the last few feet.

Cho wasn't moving. Not even the slightest movement of the chest that meant that she was breathing. Nothing. Harry gawked at her in disbelief. She couldn't be - dead?

Harry let himself be dragged away from Cho's limp body. He was left alone some distance away, no one daring to come near him. Everyone was too worried about Cho to notice what he was doing. Harry released the Snitch that somehow got tangled in the right sleeve of his robes and released it. This was not how he wanted to get the Snitch.

aaaaaaaaaa

"Harry, Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office."

"How's Cho?"

Professor McGonagall sat beside him on the empty stands. She looked at him with a blank expression. "Poppy doesn't know yet. She is alive, for now. Poppy says that if she makes it through the night, she stands a good chance to -" Her voice trailed off, and then she found it again. "Harry - what happened?"

Harry grabbed his head and leaned it down, his elbows resting on his knees. He moved his fingers through the hair above his nape, and then shook his head with worn-down sluggishness. "I lost control over my broom."

"I see. Well, your broom is undergoing an inspection for all known hexes. You should really talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Harry got up to leave, when he felt McGonagall's hand on his shoulder. "Harry, are you sure everything is all right?" Harry wanted to ask how could things be fine when he had just nearly killed Cho, but instead he said, "yes" in a small voice that wasn't very convincing.

The old headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts knew Harry from his previous visits to Dumbledore's office. They waved at him cheerfully, only to be responded with a frail smile. 

Harry sat in front of Dumbledore's huge desk and tried not to look around. Dumbledore's office always uplifted his spirit with its unlimited supply of magical objects, the benign former headmasters and the ancient looking spell books. Harry didn't feel he deserved to be heartened.

Despite himself, Harry found that he was staring at Fawkes. The magnificent phoenix didn't look so majestic right now. Fawkes looked a lot like the way he did when Harry first saw him – seemingly half his feathers were forcefully plucked, while the rest suffered from severe moulting. The decrepit-looking bird flew awkwardly to Harry's shoulder and stood there, continuously shedding feathers. The floor around Harry was soon decorated with red and gold, and Harry hoped with all his heart that Fawkes wouldn't burst into flames while standing on his shoulder. 

Dumbledore entered the office and fixed Harry with a sombre look. He then turned his gaze towards Fawkes, and his face wore an even less pleased expression. "I've been telling him to get a move on for days. Look at him." Dumbledore shook his head with a display of dejection. When he turned his attention back to Harry, his eyes twinkled, but still looked very stern.

"How are you, Harry?"

"Fine," Harry said. By the look on Dumbledore's face, Harry knew that this was the wrong answer. "Worried," he added questioningly.

"About what?"

"About Cho, of course. She's in a very serious condition."

"Is that all you're worried about?"

Harry knew exactly what Dumbledore had meant. He knew what the correct answer was, but he couldn't give it without risking being expelled, or even worse, put in Azkaban. Wasn't that what they did with Death Eaters like him? He tried to tell himself that he was not a Death Eater, but his inner voice was broken and drowned by a stronger voice that said: _you nearly killed Cho. And she's not out of danger yet._

"That's all."

Dumbledore wasn't thrilled with the answer, but it didn't seem he had anything to add. Harry began feeling very uncomfortable, but fortunately for him at that specific moment, Fawkes chose to leave his shoulder and tried to use his few remaining feathers to fly back to his intended place.

Fortunately, Fawkes was able to hold his burning moment until he was parked back on his golden perch. Then, just like he did four years before, he turned into a ball of flames. Soon after, there was an ugly-looking chick standing in a pile of ashes on the floor. Harry gave it one more look before he left, finding it hard to believe that this shrivelled new-born bird could ever grow the wonderful phoenix red-gold plumage.

aaaaaaaaaa

"Thank you for coming, Sirius."

"You sent for me, Headmaster. Of course I came."

"I'm surprised you missed Harry. He just left."

"I didn't miss him. He tried to hide in the niche beneath the moving stairs. He didn't seem in a talkative mood, so I let him assume I didn't see him."

Dumbledore smiled at that. Sirius was much more a parent than he would admit. Harry was very lucky to have him as his godfather after years of being completely alone. He looked at Sirius over his large desk. What he was about to ask of him could very easily result in the loss of Harry's only guardian. The smile was lost from his lips.

"Sirius, I have received some very disturbing news." Sirius said nothing. He just gazed at Dumbledore very attentively. "Severus was able to pass word to me that Voldemort has Rita Skeeter under his influence. It is my belief that he has her under the Imperius Curse."

"Is she that important? I don't care much for her."

"I have to admit that she is not my favourite person as well, but as for your question, yes. She is that important. People eagerly read every lie she writes, and if Voldemort can get her to write favourable articles about his ways, this might stir up chaos of unparalleled proportions."

"I understand," said Sirius and rose to his feet.

"Sirius, I would like you to take Arabella and Mundungus with you. It is most unfortunate that Remus can't come with you, but this cannot wait." 

Sirius nodded his agreement. Moony was going to be extremely annoyed when he finds out they went off on a mission without him. But there was a full moon tonight and tomorrow, and as Dumbledore said, there was no time to waste. He walked resolutely out of the office, secretly regretting his missed opportunity to talk to Harry before he left. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry's legs carried him straight from Dumbledore's office to the hospital wing. A very stern-looking Madam Pomfrey greeted him as he entered. She was the only person in the room except for Cho who was lying on a bed as motionless as she'd been on the Quidditch field. On closer look, Harry could see Cho's ribcage trembling slightly every few seconds, as if contemplating whether to draw the next breath or just give in to eternal rest.

"I don't think you should be here," said Madam Pomfrey softly.

"I have to be here. I'm the one who got her here. I must make sure that she's all right."

"Did you intend to harm her?"

"What?!" Harry was appalled by the direct question.

"I didn't think so," calmed him Madam Pomfrey. "But other might - know you a little less than I do. You might have other ideas. I think you'd better leave."

"There's no one here. Please let me stay." Harry summoned all his charisma as he pleaded with her.

"All right," Madam Pomfrey gave in. "But if there's any trouble, you're out of here."

Harry agreed with a nod of his head. He took a seat by Cho's bed, and slumped in it, preparing himself for a long night.

The door to the infirmary opened to let Krum in. The sallow-skinned young man stopped short as he saw Harry sitting by Cho's bed.

"What are you doing here?" he spat at Harry.

"I wanted to make sure she's all right," answered Harry patiently. He could understand Krum's reaction, knew what he must be thinking. He actually felt and thought very similar things.

"You can go now," said Krum brusquely.

"Look," tried Harry to placate him, "I'm really sorry for what happened. It was an accident, I -"

"It was no accident," interposed Krum. "I saw you. You steered your broom right into her and then you caught the Snitch. I SAW you release it afterwards, when you realised how badly you had hurt her." Harry shook his head frantically, but Krum just kept fomenting his anger. "You care about nothing but victory. GET OUT." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

Harry hesitated. He wanted to stay by Cho's side until he was sure she was well, but standing on the wrong side of a fully trained wizard's wand didn't seem very appealing. After some contemplation and a few angry waves of Krum's wand, he had made up his mind.

"I'm not leaving her."

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The spell took Harry by complete surprise. He was certain that Krum was just waiving his wand in vain threat. He flew back several feet, and hit the door with his back. It took Harry less time to recover from the shock than it took him to fly the distance to the door. By the time his trajectory was broken, he was ready to land on his feet, wand ready in his hand for a quick defence.

The need for a defensive action was soon to follow. When Krum realised he had failed to throw Harry completely out of the hospital, he sent another hex in his direction, this time meant to heart him enough to make him leave. Harry deflected the hex easily. He held it on the tip of his wand for several seconds, considering the best way to rid of it. He didn't want to send it back to its source. Deep inside he knew that Krum was right. He also didn't want to take the chance that a rampant hex would accidentally hit Cho.

As he held the radiant globe of sparks and bolts, Harry noticed that the bright scarlet of it became dimmer the longer he took to consider. He watched it some more, curiosity sneaking beneath his guilt and anger. It took some time, several minutes perhaps, but eventually, the hex dissolved to nothingness, leaving Harry's wand as clear as it ever was. Harry didn't know spells could be disarmed that way. In class, all they learned about was how to return the hex to its sender, but they never discussed the option that the sender didn't deserve to be hexed.

By the look on Krum's face, Harry understood that he didn't know about that option either. Krum stared at him with his mouth hanging open, his eyes moving rapidly from him to the door and back to him. Harry looked behind him, and saw Hermione standing by the open door, staring at him in much the same way Krum did.

"How... how did you do that?" It was hard for Hermione to sound the question, keeping her mouth in an 'O' shape.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I think it did it by itself. I just couldn't find a safe enough corner do discharge it at."

"So you absorbed it?"

"I don't think so."

"Then where is it?"

"I have no idea."

"You absorbed it." This was more than merely stating a fact. Hermione threw this statement into the room like she was throwing in a dungbomb. It also had the same effect on Harry - he ran away as fast as his trembling legs would carry him.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry had no idea why he fled the hospital wing. He also couldn't understand why his legs were shaking. To be exact, his whole body was. Hermione was a very clever girl. He was afraid that if he stayed too much around her, she would discover his secret. Hermione was the last person in the world he wanted to know about his mark. Except maybe for Dumbledore.

Finding new abilities didn't strike Harry as a good thing. The last time he found out he could do something other wizards couldn't, it turned out to be related to dark art. The last thing Harry needed now was another relation to the dark arts. He had enough from that to put him away for life.

Running madly, Harry found himself standing in front of the fat lady. He wasn't willing to face the others in the common room. Not yet. He turned to leave, but stopped as he saw Ginny approaching.

Ginny didn't see him standing there. There was a good reason she couldn't see him - her eyes were red and swollen and full of tears.

All of Harry's personal worries were forgotten. The fear of being discovered and incarcerated as a Death Eater, the concern over Cho's serious condition, the terror creeping inside him, whispering that he may very well be her murderer. All was gone. "Why are you crying, Ginny?"

Pure horror spread on Ginny's face when she found Harry standing next to her. She looked at him with a mixture of terror and commiseration, her eyes glittering with continuously streaming tears. Her lower lip trembled, but kept her mouth closed.

"It's me, isn't it?" said Harry, demonstrating an insight unusual for him. Ginny's silence said more than Harry wished to hear. "I didn't do it on purpose. I swear," Harry began. Of all people, his own girlfriend should recognise the truth, or at least some of it.

The horror took over Ginny's features. "No!" she called, shaking her head feverishly. "I didn't think that! I know you would never in a million years -" her sobs drowned her words.

Harry looked at her completely baffled. She seemed more certain of his integrity than he was. In that case, "Then what is it, Gin?" he asked her in a soft voice, moving to collect her trembling body in his arms.

Unexpectedly, Ginny took a step backwards, avoiding Harry's outstretched arms. Harry tilted his head and looked at her, amazed. Ginny never turned down his embrace, certainly not when she was in tears.

"This isn't the right time to talk about it," Ginny wept.

"I can't think of a more appropriate time than right now," said Harry in a very assertive voice. "Come on." He took her hand before she could draw it back as well, and directed her through the cold corridors of the castle to the entrance hall. "Do you want to talk here, or do you want to go outside?"

Ginny looked through the windows at the darkening grounds outside the castle. The remaining snow on the ground looked grey and muddy in the dim twilight. The forest looked too near and hostile. The entrance hall was well lit with torches held in decorated brass holders all around it. It was warm and cosy, and imbued her with tranquillity. Somehow, the uninviting ground outside seemed more appropriate.

She opened the great oak door. Without looking behind her, she knew Harry was there. The coldness outside made her shiver worse than before. Her shivers grew when she felt Harry's arm around her shoulder, wrapping her inside his cloak, but despite her inside opposition, she accepted it this time.

They walked along the Quidditch field. Harry was painfully reminded of the events of only few hours before. Either because of that, or because he didn't want to pressure Ginny, he kept his silent amble. Almost at the edge of the forbidden forest, Ginny finally stopped. She turned to face Harry, her face very close to his, as they shared a cloak.

Ginny's sweet smell of pine and roses roamed his nostrils. Harry considered leaning forward and kissing her, but something told him it might make her run away. Instead, he placed a comforting warm hand on her upper arm, looked deep into her wet, hazed eyes, and waited.

"I'm really sorry for bringing this up at a time like this," Ginny began, her voice much less quaky than expected.

"Whatever bothers you this much, has to be resolved immediately," Harry encouraged her.

"I think we should break up."

The simplicity of this statement struck Harry like a Bludger in the stomach. He held his breath, running the words in his head over and over again, making sure he understood what they meant.

"You must know this is the right thing," pleaded Ginny. "You must have realised a long time a go that you don't love me. Not really."

"But I do!" protested Harry. "Maybe it's your love that falters."

"Do you?" Ginny served him with an incredulous look. "Maybe as a friend -" her voice trailed off.

The notion behind this talk started sinking into Harry's consciousness. He had to admit that there was something in the idea Ginny was formulating into words. The recognition was first to himself, but soon it was visible in his eyes for Ginny to see as well.

The look of relief that spread over her face was so vivid that Harry was almost offended. "What do _you_ feel about it?"

"I love you Harry, but I was stupid. I confused the combination of deep care and admiration I have for you with real infatuation."

"Is there any reason why you realised that right now?" Ginny turned more scarlet than Harry ever saw her. So it was true. "Who is he?" Ginny shook her head, feebly trying to deny what Harry was implying. "It's okay, Gin." Harry's voice was soft. "You're right, I do love you very much, but as a friend. And as such, I only want your happiness. If you don't want to tell me, it's okay. I'm just curious."

Ginny gave him an appraising look, but kept her adamant silence. Then, she reached for him, rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and set all her tears free. Harry stood there, one hand on her back, the other patting her soft silky hair, waiting for her sobs to ebb. When she was done, both of them felt as if large stones had been removed from their chests.

They strolled back towards the castle. Although Ginny wasn't shaking any more, they were still sharing Harry's cloak. Harry's arm was casually slumped across Ginny's shoulder in a very friendly manner, just like when he walked with Hermione. Come to think of it, he actually never walked with Hermione like this any more. Not since they last used his invisibility cloak together, some years ago. He didn't think he would feel comfortable holding Hermione like this these days. How did Hermione get here anyway? He was holding Ginny, with whom he just broke up. She should certainly be the one filling his head.

aaaaaaaaaa

To Harry's great relief, the common room was empty when he and Ginny got there. Everyone was probably having a nice supper. Harry resolved to have some sweets he had stashed away, and go to bed early before anybody had returned. As he slumped on his four-poster, his hand rummaged under the mattress in a desperate search for the last parcel he got from Honeydukes. Harry realised that he still hadn't changed from his Quidditch robes, not to mention that he hadn't showered after more than an hour of playing an ebullient Quidditch game.

If he hurried, he could have a quick wash up and be back while supper was still on. Harry took clean robes and a towel, and galloped down the dormitory steps. He rushed towards the portrait hall, only to watch it open just before he touched it.

Harry's first reaction was to withdraw in a ludicrous attempt to disappear in the large vacant common room. Then, he realised how unrealistic that attempt was, and stood tall in front of the opening portal, ready to face whoever it brought.

Lee Jordan's smiling face poke behind the rotating portrait, and then the rest of him appeared as well. He smiled empirically at Harry. "Harry, how are you?" His voice was full of concern.

"I'm fine," said Harry curtly. He didn't want to be delayed with his shower and early check in.

Lee moved uncomfortably. He still blocked the entrance, and Harry tried to wriggle his way out past him. "I'm here to see if Ginny wants to have dinner with me over wallpaper patterns."

Albeit the need to rush, Harry couldn't help himself. "You really fancy her, don't you?" he said with an amused mock.

"I wouldn't dream of going anywhere near Ginny," Lee exclaimed. "She's your girlfriend." He was making a huge effort to sound sincere.

"No she's not," announced Harry, his voice as dry as a sunburned lemon.

"What? When? What happened?"

"She just dumped me." Harry looked at his fingers as he wriggled them. He knew he should feel bad about it, but for some reason he felt just fine.

"I'm so sorry," Lee looked down as well, afraid that the joy that spread inside him would be visible through his eyes. He kept his tone consciously calm, like he would at a funeral.

"Don't be. I guess it was long expected." Harry stopped to think. "Anyway, she's very much available now." He made his voice sound cheerful, which, for this topic, was not that difficult. _What's wrong with me?_ Harry lashed at himself._ I should be burying my face in a pillow now._

"Still, I can't see her and me together. She's the kid sister of my two best friends. That can't work out."

"I dated my best friend's kid sister for a year. He had no problem with that." Harry smiled at Lee, noticing that he already looked convinced. "On the other hand, look how we turned out." His smile broadened, and then turned to a stifled laugh. Lee couldn't hold his sympathetic act any longer. He joined Harry's snickers, until they both rolled on the floor, wrapped in gales of laughter.

Harry didn't find this remark all that funny, but he much needed the release. Having a Quidditch match was usually enough for Harry to need to unburden some tension, but the events that followed the match kept him in desperate need to unwind. This little conversation with Lee gave Harry the opportunity he unconsciously wished.

"Why are you on the floor?" Ginny's voice came through the haze in Harry's head. He looked up at her, her image blurred by the tears of laughter in his eyes. "What's so funny?" she added, annoyed.

"Lee," answered Harry. "He's infatuated with you." He watched as Ginny turned completely white, and then bright red, her freckles no longer distinguishable from the rest of her face.

Harry swallowed his laughter. Ginny did not look at him any more. Her eyes were fixed on Lee, who went through the same colour-changes as her, only to return to bleach-white. He stared back at Ginny, and looked as if he was about to faint.

"Er, Ginny?" Harry tried to get her attention. She turned her head to him, but her eyes were out of focus. "Ginny, this - I mean, you and Lee - that's all right with me."

Her reaction was not what Harry expected. She kneeled down, and hugged him so tight that he really wanted her to let go of him already. "You're amazing," she whispered in his ear, and then got up to face Lee.

Harry seized the opportunity and fled the room.

aaaaaaaaaa

The way was long and difficult. The travellers could not apparate within ten miles of their destiny for the fear of raising an alarm. Naturally, they couldn't use any muggle means of transportation as well.

Sirius slowed his pace as he felt a missing presence behind him. Before he hinged to look, he heard a soft, broken woman's voice.

"Wait."

Arabella stopped, panting. She rested against a large black rock, and looked at Sirius with an agonised expression. She made a successful effort to smile. Mundungus came out of the shadows behind her, and placed a worried hand on her back.

"Are you all right? Maybe I should take some of your baggage. You're carrying way too much."

"I'm fine. I just need a short rest every two-three miles." She kept her smile on, but it looked as if it was extracted from her through torture.

Sirius moved his eyes from her exhausted features to Mundungus, who tried to keep his proud position, but indeed looked just as bad as her. Standing like this, Sirius realised that his legs too, were about to crumple. Arabella was right. They'd been walking in hostile terrain since nightfall, the last two hours a constant climb through thorns and ragged rocks. He looked at the brighter stripe of black over the horizon.

"We don't have time," he said in the most even tone he could muster. "It's almost dawn."

Arabella sighed and pushed herself away from the rock against which she was leaning. She resumed her walk, taking after Sirius. Mundungus lingered a few more seconds, waiting to take his position at the rear.

The circle of the sun was visible when the party arrived at its destination. It was small and white and the rays it sent were not enough to melt the snow around the house. The house itself was relatively inconspicuous compared to the vast fields that surrounded it in three directions. On its fourth side, the house stood at the top of a high cliff, watching over the waved of the ocean below.

The two men and woman lay behind a large rock a short distance from the house and watched it. The snow was hard and cold beneath their bodies, their baggage pressed them hard into the stone-seeded snow, but they didn't care. Just keeping horizontal felt so good, they didn't mind the burden pricking at their back.

They could see a few black silhouettes moving inside the house. Sirius tried to distinguish them, but was unable to mark them in a manner that held. _Here comes the chubby short Death Eater. There's the tall one with the limp, and right behind him the one with the swollen cowl, or is he the some one whom I marked as wavering?_

"Are you able to count them?"

"No."

"They couldn't be all different wizards, could they?"

"Can't be. Why would one reporter require so many Death Eaters to watch over her?"

"Maybe they know we're coming."

The suggestion penetrated Sirius' heart with a frightening chill. "I'll go check," he said. He transformed into a dog, and began advancing towards the house, keeping his body close to the ground. He stopped to estimate the distance he still needed to pass, and then he heard it.

A jet of red light swamped over the rock behind which Arabella and Mundungus were hiding. A second later, the same red bolt hit where Sirius was crouched, but Sirius was no longer there. His canine instincts helped him jump to hiding just before the steaming jet had hit the ground. From his new position behind another rock, Sirius could see the smoking crater that replaced the snow where he had stood.

A well familiar voice called to him, "I know it's you, Black. Come out or you'll end up like your two friends here."

Sirius peeped from behind his rock. Five Death Eaters stood with their wands pointing at his hiding place. The front one used his leg to poke a still body on the ground. Was he a friend or foe? Could he trust Snape to help him? If so, why would Snape tell the others that he was the dog? As he considered his options, two of the Death Eaters advanced on him. As a dog, he could run fast, but not fast enough. As a man, he could defend himself. He transformed back to a man, and reemerged, holding his wand steady in front of him.

Sirius fought well. He was able to hold back four unknown adversaries for a long time. It was the fifth opponent, the one he knew and duelled numerous times before that was his downfall. Snape had used a gap between three almost congruent deflecting spells to sneak in an extremely vicious stunning curse. _If only he had just stood aside_, was Sirius' last thought before the darkness took him.

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco gazed at the plates laid in front of him and sulked. Why did that arrogant Krum have to stay with Cho when it was time for breakfast? Without him, that wretched Mudblood returned to her appropriate place among the Gryffindor muggle-loving Mudblood friends. Just as he was getting used to having her around.

Crabbe followed Draco's glower towards the other house's table. "Finally, we're rid of that Mudblood. For three weeks she'd been spoiling my appetite."

"Shut up, Crabbe," said Draco even more vehemently than always. He looked at Crabbe's plate, brimming with the third serving of everything. "I didn't see you toss any food to the dogs."

Crabbe didn't notice the unusual nuance to Draco's voice. He was too used to being trampled by him to mind this most recent attack. Draco watched him as he shovelled down the content of his plate, and any dash of appetite he had was gone. He glanced at the Daily Prophet that had just been dropped in his lap by an owl, and returned his attention to Hermione.

It took almost a minute for the shape of the letters of the paper's title to register in Draco's mind. When they finally did, he was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. He wheeled slowly in his chair, looking for the title, but enjoying a few more seconds of sweet doubt. There was no way he'd read it right. But there it was again, written in great black letters, screaming out of the front page. Draco smiled.

Hermione was so glad she had a subscription for the Daily Prophet. This way she was able to keep track of everything that was happening in the wizarding world. She stretched her hand to catch the paper from the air. The delivery owl, who had already learned to recognise her, dropped the paper the second he was in range. Hermione paled as she scanned the front page. Maybe having a subscription wasn't that great after all.

She squinted at Harry, who was already getting suspicious by her reaction to the paper. Annoyingly, Harry chose this specific day to turn into a more attentive boy.

"What is it, Hermione?" His green eyes were the reflection of deep concern. He reached his hand towards the paper.

Hermione knew she could fight him over the paper, but she would eventually lose. She decided to avoid the havoc such a fight would create. Harry would get enough attention this morning without creating a disturbance at the breakfast table. She leaned back, pinning the paper to the table, and allowed Harry and Ron to read over her shoulder.

_IS THE BOY WHO LIVED A DEATH EATER?_

_By Daily Prophet special correspondent, Rita Skeeter._

_Reliable sources at the Ministry of Magic revealed that  
Harry Potter has been under their investigation for a long time,  
and that the Ministry now has steadfast evidence to prove  
that the boy who lived is deeply involved in the practice  
of dark arts._

_The investigation started on July of '94, when Potter  
was reported to have had contact with the convicted criminal  
Sirius Black, after his notorious escape from Azkaban._

_Since then, Potter has kept regular correspondence with  
Black, his godfather, while ignoring the fact that Black was  
the one responsible for the murder of Potter's parents.  
One such letter was seized last year by Draco Malfoy of  
Potter's year at Hogwarts. It was vehemently denied by Potter  
that the letter had been from Black, but its origins were proven  
beyond any doubt._

_Potter claimed on several occasions to have met He-Who-  
Must-Not-Be-Named. Originally it was this reporter's opinion  
that the boy invented those encounters to inflame the legends  
about him, but we can now assume that his intention was to help  
bring You-Know-Who back to power all along. It is this wish  
to bring You-Know-Who's ways to the surface that influenced  
Potter to kill poor Cedric Diggory at the end of the Triwizard  
Tournament, a little over a year ago._

_The same officials at the Ministry claim that murder was  
avoidable, if only Potter had been apprehended earlier. The  
murder had been committed when the investigation was entering  
its second year. The same official revealed that Potter made  
another attempt on the life of a fellow student during a Quidditch  
match yesterday. As these lines are being written, that student  
is still fighting for her life in the Hogwarts hospital._

_To top all his deeds, Potter recently tattooed the Dark Mark  
on his left arm, to indicate his loyalty to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-  
Named. By doing this, Potter has joined the dubious crowd of  
Death Eaters, who still await the rise of their master._

_Harry Potter himself was unavailable for comment._

"They never tried to get my comment," mumbled Harry, his face bleached. Would it have done any good if they had? There wasn't a single fact in that article he could disprove. There were no witnesses to Cedric's murder, he did have that horrible tattoo, and they had failed before in trying to prove Sirius' innocence.

"How could she write those things about Sirius?" he asked angrily.

Hermione and Ron fixed him with identical shocked looks. "Sirius?" Ron asked. "Is this what you're worried about? What about the bunch of lies she wrote about you?"

"Be reasonable, Ron," said Hermione in a non-convincing voice. "No one is going to believe Harry is a Death Eater."

Malfoy's voice was carried from across the whole, drowning Hermione's faltered reassurance, "Potter, any tricks up your sleeve?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." All of Harry's frustration was infused into those three words.

"Why don't you roll up your sleeve and show us all what you've got there," Malfoy teased.

"That's an excellent idea, Malfoy," Hermione called above Harry's increasingly paling face. "Why don't we _all_ go through that inspection? You start."

Malfoy struggled to keep a straight face. "Actually, I can't believe the Dark Lord would want this squib for a servant more than he would want you, Mudblood."

"And I thought you loved me," yelled Hermione back mockingly. She knew Malfoy would be the only one to take that remark seriously.

Malfoy's face turned livid with rage and with some fear that some of his Slytherin friends might actually believe her. A small red dot appeared on each of his cheeks. "You can only dream of me, Mudblood," he said, hoping that his voice didn't surrender that in fact he was the one doing the dreaming. "And that good for nothing friend of yours, I wish I hadn't saved his life." He saw the tortured look on Harry's face and felt a little more sure of himself. "What can I say, that's just me. Can't see a miserable helpless dying human and do nothing. Even if he is a _murderer_."

Harry jumped out of his chair. He may have that mark on his arm, but he was not a murderer. _Not yet, anyway_, he thought bitterly. Last he checked, Cho was doing well. He pulled out his wand, but was pulled back by Hermione. She leaned all her weight against Harry's hand, pushing it out of aim. As she did so, Harry saw from the corner of his eye a blue flare leave Ron's wand, rushing in Malfoy's direction.

Hermione dragged Harry out of the Great Hall, first, with some resistance from his side, and then with Harry's drawn-back cooperation. They stopped in the entrance hall, letting the doors close behind them on the picture of McGonagall stepping in between Ron and Malfoy.

Harry leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, taking large gulps of cold air.

"Don't worry, Harry, no one would believe you really have the Dark Mark," Hermione repeated her comforting words with a soft voice. Harry gave her an anguished look. "I mean," she continued more hesitantly, "all you have to do is just pull down your sleeve and show them." She reached with her hand to Harry's left arm.

Harry pulled his arm from her hand forcefully. He tucked it behind his back, pressing it hard against the wall. He looked pleadingly at Hermione, hoping she would have some rational explanation to his deed, just like she was always able to explain everything else. But the hurt and stunned look in her large brown eyes told him she understood exactly what had just happened.

"You can't be serious?" she asked, refusing to believe what she already knew. "Not you." Tears welled up in her eyes.

"It's not what you think."

"It's not? Than why won't you let me see your arm?"

Harry shook his head and looked down at her shoes. The uncountable number of colours they had confused him for a second.

"They were a gift from Viktor," said Hermione dryly, following Harry's gaze. "You were just about to explain why you wouldn't let me see your arm."

"I can't because - I do have that horrible thing on it, but I didn't put it there," he hurried to add as Hermione drew a step back. "I swear I didn't. It was there when I woke up in the hospital wing, the night I went to chase the ones who stole the Pensieve. The night you saved my life."

"I didn't. It was Malfoy."

"Whatever."

Hermione looked at him, willing to listen further, but Harry had nothing else to say. Finally, he found more words. "I didn't even feel it until yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Hermione looked bewildered.

"In the game. I had a cramp when -" A lump in his throat caught Harry's speech before it could escape.

"You don't mean - you _are_ responsible to what happened to Cho?!" The astounded frown was beginning to feel at home on Hermione's face.

"No, no!" Harry protested vigorously. "I didn't do it on purpose. I never would have –"

Hermione cut him short. "But you knew you had that thing on you when you went up to the pitch, didn't you? Why did you even play the game in the first place? Why didn't you tell anyone that you're not fit to play? Why didn't you tell _me_?"

"I didn't think -" Harry trailed off. He wanted to say that he didn't think it was dangerous, but he distinctly remembered that it did cross his mind. Actually, Hermione was absolutely right. He should have told her about it. She probably would have stopped him from flying, and Cho would have been still healthy and happy, and unaware of any lurking dander from his side. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't worry, Harry." Hermione found her sympathy for him. Her eyes were still shedding tears, but those were no longer tears of insult, those were truly saddened and compassionate tears. "We'll figure something out."

Harry was still looking utterly downcast. She protracted a stare at him, but he failed to meet her eyes. He looked more miserable than ever, and Harry had good reasons to look miserable before. Finally, her pity overcame her fear. She took a step forward, and placed her arms around him in a protective gesture that was lost due to their height difference.

More than anything in the world, Harry needed that embrace right now, to separate him from the rest of the universe. He let himself slide slowly down the wall, making sure he wasn't lost to Hermione's arms. Once he was sitting with his back to the wall, and she was kneeling next to him, the height difference was no longer significant. She was able to wrap her arms around his neck, and he was able to rest his head against her shoulder.

aaaaaaaaaa

They would have stayed like that for a long time if it hadn't been for Malfoy, who chose that moment to emerge from the Great Hall.

"Well, well. If it isn't the famous Harry Potter in the flesh," sneered Malfoy. "Tell me Potter, how much did you have to pay that Skeeter to have her write such a flattering article about you?" Seeing the subject of his love holding his worst adversary in her arms had a sharpening effect on Malfoy's tongue. 

Harry was torn between the temptation to stay right there and the fervent desire to get up and punch Malfoy right across his smug face.

Hermione tightened her grip around Harry, making the decision for him. "I thought you were just punished for talking like that."

"Well, _your_ Professor took twenty point off Slytherin for it, but she also took twenty points off your lot for Weasley's reaction. So no, as long as you remain hotheaded, I will never truly be punished." Malfoy gave this explanation with a complacent smirk. 

Harry looked at him too shocked to respond. He wasn't shocked by the fact that Malfoy wasn't punished. He was rather used to that. He was stunned by the fact that Malfoy gave Hermione a reasonably straight answer, and didn't just hurl insults at her as usual.

Hermione release Harry and stood up. Harry recognised the resolute expression she wore, and was very afraid. Usually, when she had that specific expression, it meant that she was about to do something bravely stupid. These were the only times she didn't act smart. Harry thought she chose an extremely bad moment to forget how smart she was.

"Malfoy, we need your help," Hermione said. _Yes, she's completely lost it_, thought Harry. Malfoy's smirk widened, but to Harry's great surprise, he didn't send Hermione to hell. He just stood, and waited for her to finish.

"We need to talk to you privately. Let's go outside." Without waiting for an answer, Hermione opened the great oak door, letting the cold air penetrate the entrance hall. She stepped out, and was gone from Harry's sight. Malfoy stepped right behind her.

Harry suffered a serious inner-struggle. On one hand, Hermione had asked him to come, which is a good enough reason to do it. On the other hand, he didn't trust Malfoy one bit. What was she doing, asking for that snake's help? Eventually, the thought of Hermione outside alone with Malfoy won over the entire argument, and Harry stepped out the door to follow.

Hermione didn't wait for long before she reached the point. All she needed was to make sure they were alone. Once she was sure of that, she stopped, and reached for Malfoy's left arm.

Draco felt her hand on his. He knew what she was doing, but he didn't care. As long as she touched him, it was just fine. The rest of the world, including Potter, simply didn't exist. As she held his left arm, he placed his other hand on her shoulder and drew closer to her. He could kiss her now, and for all he cared, Potter could spontaneously explode.

Hermione ignored the shiver that passed through her as Malfoy touched her with his other hand. She concentrated on his left arm, pealing the tight sleeve away. There it was. The scull with it's protruding snake. She twisted Malfoy's arm so that the mark was facing Harry.

As she let go of Malfoy's hand, she knew he would keep it just the way she held it, and he did. He held his arm up with the Dark Mark towards Harry, brazenly staring in his eyes, daring him to say anything about it.

Harry flinched as Hermione went to his arm. She looked sternly upon him, and grabbed his hand with certain poise. For some reason, Harry didn't dare oppose her. He let her strip his arm just like she did to Malfoy. He felt her hand shake when she saw that brand on him, removing any doubt about its existence from her heart. Still, he did not resist when she slowly spun his arm to show the mark to the one person who was sure to use it against him.

Draco's jaw dropped. "Where did you get that, Potter? Surely you don't expect me to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gave it to you. This must be the cheap imitation."

"I wish it was," said Harry, forgetting his enmity with Malfoy for a second. "I have no idea how I got it. It was just there when I woke up the night I went after the Pensieve."

"You mean the night _I_ saved your life?"

Harry answered him with a glare.

"There is one sure way to check if that Mark you undeservingly have is the real thing." Malfoy took a step towards Harry. Harry, whose hand was still held in Hermione's made to sign of trying to get away. Malfoy held his arm close to Harry's, his mark turned towards the one on Harry's arm.

When the marks were four inches apart, Harry started to feel a slight tickle. "You'd better let go of his hand," Malfoy told Hermione. Hermione did, and Harry, who by now was very curious to see what Malfoy was up to, kept his arm steady.

Malfoy closed the distance between the marks with the same difficulty a salmon experiences when swimming up the stream. He also did it with the same determination. When the marks touched, Harry realised why that was.

The second the marks connected, both he and Malfoy were enclosed in a black sphere, separating them from the rest of the world. Harry couldn't see the borders of the sphere, but when he tried to look beyond the miniature universe that held the two of them, everything looked too dazzling to stare at. Almost the only things that existed were Malfoy's pale icy eyes, and that frozen stare filled his heart with chill.

Draco looked into Harry's emerald green eyes and wondered how big the mistake was he'd made. He was so sure the mark on Harry's forearm was a fake, that he took no precautions. None except warning his Mudblood precious to step away.

He had tried this before only with his father. The bonding effect had got them closer, but they were close as it was. Father and son. This time he had tried this with his worst adversary, a boy who wasn't even a real Death Eater. This was more than mere stupid. It was dangerous.

Those green eyes filled Draco with alien feelings of mainly unselfish concern. He wondered if those would be gone once the bond was broken. He wondered if he would even be able to break the bond. He tried.

Their arms detached, immediately shattering the black sphere, and erasing all impression of one another from their hearts, or in Draco's case, what lame excuse he had for a heart. Well, at least this experiment made it very clear.

"Congratulations, Potter," Draco said with one corner of his mouth curled up. "You're a Death Eater."

A/N: The idiom 'congratulations Potter' belongs to Cassandra Claire, who, I must admit, used it in a much more amusing way. Thanks for letting me use it, Cassie.

Harry sank to the ground, feeling his heart sinking even lower. So it was final. Until now, he could believe that this mark, however cruel, could be just someone's idea of a practical joke. Someone with an extremely twisted sense of humour. But there was no chance a practical joke could create that effect. He could still feel the coldness in his heart, even if his heart was at the bottom of his stomach.

"So, It's true then, you did kill Diggory," said Malfoy slyly.

Harry struck him with his sharpest glare, but felt this wasn't enough. "No," he stated finally. "I killed no one."

"What about Cho?" Hermione reminded him.

"I did not intend to harm her! I had a cramp. I lost control over my arm."

"Had anything like this ever happened to you?" Hermione directed the question at Draco.

"No. Never," he answered truthfully. Knowing what his answered implied, Draco smiled inwardly. He didn't mind trashing Harry for a while, and doing it with Hermione's full attention was the best way to do it.

"So, what was your gift?" Draco asked Harry.

"Gift?" Harry didn't understand what he was talking about.

"Gift, present, offering, what did you get with the Mark?"

"I don't think I got something with it."

"Of course you have. Everyone does. This is just to give you a taste of the powers of the side you're joining. Think, what was it that you most wanted, and recently received?" Harry still looked blank. "Come on, it has to be something that reminds you of the Dark Lord too. What was it?"

"What was yours?"

"Agility." Draco looked at Harry's questioning eyes. "I got the Mark just before our second year, and what I got with it was the ability to fly a broom. I received the skills of a Seeker."

"You're not that good a Seeker."

"You should have seen me before." Draco smiled bitterly, making the other two chuckle.

"But how is this connected to You-Know-Who?" asked Hermione, trying to connect it to Draco's explanation.

"Every time I fly on a broom," Draco's eyes turned misty, "I can hear the voice of the Dark Lord in the hissing of the wind." He shuddered slightly, and then his eyes resumed their focus. "So, what was your gift? What was the thing you most wanted?"

"Harry couldn't get the thing he wants most," said Hermione softly. She remembered Harry's story about the Mirror of Erised. "The thing he most wants is a family." She choked as she said that, and watching Harry's face, she was unable to resume her breathing.

Harry's face turned completely white, his eyes opening so wide that they threatened to swallow his glasses. "I -" he began. "I had dreams. Sweet dreams. I was with my mum and dad -"

"That's it!" called Draco with triumph. "What's the connection to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"I don't think there is one," Harry said hopefully.

"There must be. Are there any snakes in your dreams?"

"I said those were sweet dreams. I don't consider snakes as sweet creatures."

"Hey, those are your dreams, don't bite! Maybe something else – colours?" Malfoy added after some consideration.

Harry could no longer turn white, so he switched to sickly blue. "There is a lot of green and silver in those dreams."

"There you go, then. Relish your gift. If I know you as well as I think I do, you will give it up shortly."

"I would give it up now if I could."

"As I said." Malfoy muttered a long series of words Harry couldn't hear, and concluded the set with "git."

Harry got up, knowing what options he was facing. There was only one possible course of action. He started marching back towards the castle, resolving to take his invisibility cloak, some supplies, and leave.

"What do you intend to do?" Hermione stopped him.

"The only thing I can do. Find whoever it was that stole the Pensieve, and use his to get to the one responsible for this." Harry held out his arm, which had yet to cover. Malfoy resumed his stream of indecipherable grunts.

"You can't do that!" exclaimed Hermione. "You should go to Dumbledore." She held both his hands in a tight grip.

"And get myself in Azkaban? No thanks."

"He didn't put Snape in Azkaban, and he helped us with Sirius."

Draco stopped muttering and listened carefully. Did he hear correctly? Dumbledore assisted a fugitive? This day was just getting better and better.

"That's a risk I'm not willing to take," insisted Harry. He released his hands from Hermione's and resumed his determined stride.

"If you're going, than so am I." Hermione ran to catch him.

"Of course you're not."

She had his upper arm in her hand again, and she pulled him towards her with a force he did not expect. Her brown eyes were piercing in his green. "You are not going alone. The last time you did, you returned with this," she pressed hard on his left forearm, making him wince in pain. "And worse than that, you nearly died."

"And I saved you," added in Draco. "That means I'm going to have to come, too." Both Harry and Hermione glared at him. "What?" said Draco naively. "You already trusted me with your deepest secret. How much worse can this get?"

"Why on earth would you want to come with us?" said Hermione.

"I never agreed to that 'us' thing," protested Harry, but was completely ignored.

"Same as last time." Draco stared at her, the warmth emerging from within him turned his pale grey eyes almost a tepid azure. "You know why."

"Am I missing something?" Harry asked with a bit of nausea.

"Always," answered Draco. As his gaze turned to Harry, his eyes resumed their normal steel-cold colour. "I have a meeting later today. You _will_ wait for me. You have to know that when it comes to these things," he waved his exposed arm about, "I know a lot more than you do."

Harry grimaced, but Hermione's steamroller grip left no room for argument. Eventually, he lowered his head in a manner of a man submitting to his fate.

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Draco had a good reason to believe Harry had killed Cedric Diggory to get his Dark Mark. After all, killing was a requirement in order to get one of those. Draco could remember what he had done to get his, and shuddered. If anyone ever found out, he would be in serious trouble.

The Dark Lord was at his lowest point when Draco's father decided it was time for his son to become an active part of the wining side. As the unnamed leader of whoever remained after You-Know-Who's disappearance, Lucius Malfoy had the privilege to determine who would join their dark lines.

The procedure was very simple. Whoever wished to join had to bring a body of a Mudblood. Then, the available Death Eaters took a vote. Either the applicant was accepted, or he was killed on the spot. In the cases when he was accepted, the mark was burned on him using a special dark and ancient spell. Potter's search could very well be in vain. It is possible that the spell had no counter-spell to erase the mark.

Either because he was very young, or because he was his father's son, Draco had a discount on the body. He did not have to return with a Mudblood's body. His father wouldn't have him face a full-grown wizard, even if that wizard was just a weak Mudblood. Instead, Draco only needed to bring a dead muggle.

Draco was sent through The Leaky Cauldron into muggle London in the search for a muggle to kill. It was a very dark stormy night, and very soon Draco found himself standing in the middle of an unknown deserted alley, drenched to his bone from the rain, and completely lost. The only way he could call someone was to use the Avada Kedavra curse. He had a talisman on him that would alarm his father to the place when he does. Draco wondered if he would be able to use the curse if any muggle was to walk through. Why wouldn't he? They were just muggles.

A little girl hurried past him. Draco pointed his wand to her, wondering what a little girl was doing out alone on a night like this. He followed her progress with his wand, convincing himself that she was too little to make an impression on the other Death Eaters. He knew that being a Malfoy meant that they wouldn't dare vote against him, but he didn't want to shame his father.

Draco commenced striding up the alley. He walked past a street corner and entered another alley identical to the one before. His light sensitive eyes could detect a movement up ahead. He widened his steps, closing in on whatever it was that moved. As he got closer, he could see a dog flinching away from his dark, not very big but menacing frame. But there was still something on the sidewalk.

The dog looked at Draco from a few yards away, exposing its teeth and growling. It was a small, battered-looking dirty dog who might have once been white. Whatever it was that was lying on the sidewalk, the dog wished to protect it, but not enough to attack the dangerous-looking boy.

The parcel on the pavement was as large as a man. Draco prodded it with his foot. It was also as soft as a man. He bent over it and removed the bits of dirty cloth that covered it. The dog gathered some courage, and caught Draco's pants. It was hurled away with a well-aimed vicious kick. The last pieces of filthy cloth were removed with one swing of Draco's wand. Draco could not believe his luck. It was an elderly muggle. A _dead_ elderly muggle.

To summon his father and his peers, Draco cast an Avada Kedavra curse on the dead body. A few seconds later, he was back at the headquarters castle, surrounded by appreciating Death Eaters who did not neglect to mention to his father the ability his son must have, killing a grown man so swiftly.

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco sat down on the quidditch stands, burying his face in his hands. He let his head fall forward, his fingers passing through his soft platinum hair, until his forehead rested on his knees. The memory of that night always sent shivers through him. This time those shivers were especially bad.

"Hello, Draco," A voice as deep and delicate as an ice statue greeted him.

Draco brought his eyes up and looked into their pale twin pare.

"Father," he smiled. "I'm in need of your advice."

Lucius Malfoy placed a paternal hand of his son's shoulder. There were no hugs in the Malfoy family. There was no need for them. Draco knew he had his father's full support without it. Not removing his hand, Lucius sat beside his son, his figure tall by Draco's slumped shoulders. "What is it, Draco?"

Draco knew better than to stall. "I'm in love, father." Lucius Malfoy smiled. So this was what made his son call him. Finally, he was a growing boy. "With a Mudblood." Lucius' smile faltered slightly, but then his eyed twinkled an evil spark, and his smile returned.

"There is nothing wrong with that," he said, pressing Draco's shoulder reassuringly. Draco looked at him surprised. He had expected his father to have a solution to the situation, not to accept it.

"You can have your fun with her, as long as she doesn't get any funny ideas. Correction, as long as _you_ don't get any funny ideas like being serious about her." He looked at his son's stunned face. "You don't really think your mother was my first, do you? I had my fun before settling down. Some of it was with Mudbloods. You can have the best time with a girl when you know you won't have the 'next morning' problem, because for her, there might not be a next morning." His smile turned into a slushy grin, and Draco felt a wave of nausea mixed with savage revenge thinking of Hermione that way.

"Who is she, anyway? Not that I would know a Mudblood."

Draco smiled. "Oh, you know _her_. It's Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Granger? Harry Potter's girl? You do aim high." This seemed to please Lucius. Having his son toy with Potter's girl certainly had its appeal. The idea that she might refuse him never even crossed his mind.

The mention of Potter's name brought something else to Draco's mind. As long as his father was there, he might as well ask. "Father, Is Harry Potter a Death Eater?"

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter," chuckled Lucius. "No. He's not."

"But," began Draco, and hesitated. Should he tell his father about what he saw? He as much as gave his word to Hermione that he wouldn't. Hermione was a Gryffindor and a Mudblood. Why was he even considering this? "I saw the Dark Mark on Harry Potter's arm."

"You did? I would have thought he'd try to hide it."

"Than you know about it?

"Yes," drawled Lucius. "The Dark Lord has great plans for Potter. He is not yet one of us, but he will be." He stood, and looked down on his son. "If that is all, I will be on my way."

Draco stood as well, the confidence that had returned to him made the two look about the same height. "Thank you, father."

Lucius gave Draco's shoulder one last squeeze, and walked away, leaving Draco very relaxed with his plans for Hermione.

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A/N:

This chapter contained some references to 'HP and the Unforgivable Curses'. None of these references is very important. If you haven't read that story, and encountered fifth-year events you've never heard of, just ignore them.

Read? Review!

Thanks to:

Coqui: I'm so glad to see that you're back! No one would help me with the tenses sniff, sob, sob If you're around, maybe there's a point in keeping this up. Now I only need to draw Daine, Mwalimu, and Doctor Cornelius, and we just might be back in the game.

Special thanks to everyone who cared enough to review the previous chapters after the last one was released:

DementorGrl, Ladybug (you're so coherent, I admire that!), Big B, Mirager (made me laugh), Maverick (thanks for being so elaborate), Angela Graham, Kath (have no idea what you're talking about. I guess your last remark was meant for someone else to read, I'll try to pamper Neville next time), Coqui, Reviewer, hermioneatkcom, (you got plenty of Draco this time), Amanita Lestrange (thanks for being consistent, I would love to know what made you stop on your first read), Sarah Mckatie (?), GinnyPotter, Aoi (You're right, Krum did just give his name to the title. As a matter of fact, I intended to eliminate him four chapters ago. I don't know how he lingered so long).  
dagan: Thanks for being nice, reviewing twice, heh? Trying to break the system? :)  
Angela Graham: You're absolutely right. I let the a-plot slip away. Won't let it happen again. Your review was very important to me.  
Cassandra Claire: Ha! True intentions are revealed. So it was you who decided to H/H in DD. And you are right in reading my intentions (as you well know by now).  
Lizzy/Tygrestick: Thanks for making me smile.  
RatheraMutemwiya: Your vote is beginning to become the majority's opinion.  
Nick: With you on the first two couples (at least for now). I'm willing to surrender the fact that there is no way I'm gonna put Ginny with Draco.  
GinnyPotter: Absolutely right about the Wronski Feint. I've been searching the wrong lexicon. I've tried to add some more of Ron, as I thought you were right, but for some reason he keeps blending in the background. Thanks for the serious review.  
Amy: I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for misspelling your name in the respond review. I automatically spelled the Hebrew version of your name. I would have mailed you, but your review was unsigned, and there are quite a few 'Amy's on Agav, eigh alita al ze?  
Kris: Thanks. You really don't need my permission. I'm glad for the proposed potential exposure.  
Me. The flee.: Thanks for taking me so literally. You're the reason I saw the need for the long a/n at the top of this chapter. And thanks for trying to pump up my ego.  
Viktor'sGurl: Thanks for the details. It helps a lot to know what the interesting parts are, and which things are annoying.  
Sanna: Sorry you had to go back, and thanks for the great compliment. You could have just mailed me if you had trouble reviewing. You have a problem with h/d? Don't bluff, These are your favourite kinds of stories! Er - I'm sorry for writing so fast? Was this one better? Don't take me seriously. I was just swamped with work the past two weeks. The secret to quick writing is not to proofread your work :) (sorry for hurting your eyes, Cassandra). And I do have everything planned ahead. Problem is, my estimates as to how long the chapters would be are terrible. I planned a short chapter this time, and ended up with a long one which includes less than half of its original plot developments.  
LunaLuv: I don't see either Cho or Krum as evil. Not yet, anyway.  
Sarah, Jodie, Tammy, olivia: Thanks!  
Honeyduke, Elyssa: Your H/D vote was registered... :)  
Amanita Lestrange: Thanks, and I would love to know what made you stop reading before. If you feel uncomfortable putting it in a review (you shouldn't) then mail me privately.

46


	6. Not all opposites attract

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 6**_

_Not all opposites attract_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Dark-Mark Quidditch D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: This chapter contains a lot of action, a lot of schnoogling. You think the title says it all? I'm not sure. There are plenty of pairing options when Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione go on a search mission together. Ron is unhappy, but at least he knows why. Does Harry understand what raises his wrath when he sees Hermione with Draco? I don't know who Hermione will end up with, but be sure that Weasley and Malfoy don't mix.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
You already know everything is JK's. This chapter also has a quote from the movie "Little Man Tate." Thought it was worth mentioning.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
Oh well, this chapter comes in late, but it was very close to not coming at all. Jeraldyn and GinnyPotter appeared miraculously a week after I gave up and decided to discontinue the series. Jeraldyn was kind enough to go over a previously uploaded chapter, and give me extensive help with it. Without her, this chapter would never have been written. GinnyPotter was the first one to oblige to my request for grammatical corrections and gave me the first blink of hope. If you enjoy this, you should be grateful to those two. Now, the next chapter will be written thanks to the wonderful beta-readers who volunteered to help me out, and made writing this a worth-while effort.

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Remus Lupin felt the cold of the flagstone against his cheek. That must mean that he was awake. He wondered how long he had before moonrise. Probably not very long, as he spent most of the day sleeping off his riots as a wolf. Remus started heaving himself slowly off the floor, opening his eyes in the process. He looked around and released a low grunt. He was going to need a new mattress. Again.

Remus let out a sequence of soft curses, all directed at the greasy-haired Potions master who had disappeared a few weeks ago without prior notice, and without preparing any Wolfsbane Potion before leaving. Remus had only one more dose of the Potion, which he resolved to keep for an emergency. He had made repeated attempts to recreate the Master's success, so far producing only glorious failures. Not for the first time, Remus was forced to lock himself in a cage for the duration of the three horrible nights of the full moon.

In his desperation, Remus even let Sirius help him with the last attempt. Judging by the hair on the back of his hands, the only difference this last potion had made was to turn his hair ocean-blue. And it didn't wear off when he turned human again either.

Remus picked up his wand, happy that as a wolf he couldn't use it. Using the wand, he unlocked the door and stepped out of the cage. He was going to find Sirius and give him a taste of his own medicine. Literally. He was going to make him drink some of the potion. Let his hair turn blue as well.

The most likely place to find Sirius was in the kitchen. Being on the run most of the time had made Sirius very appreciative of steady food sources. Remus stalked into the small kitchen, and found it surprisingly empty. There was a note on the wooden kitchen table, undoubtedly left there by Sirius. Only he would pin a note to the table using a large kitchen knife.

Remus wrenched the knife from the table, not without significant effort. He scanned the bruised surface of the table, grimacing with discontent. The wood was punctured in numerous places. He should probably get Sirius a corkboard. His eyes travelled to the piece of parchment. It said:

_Finally up, are you, Moony?_

_Hope the new Wolfsbane was a success._ Remus grumbled in response.

_We're out on a short mission. _Remus almost tore the parchment in anger. _Don't be like that. This couldn't wait. We should be back by early afternoon._

_See you then_

The letter wasn't signed, but it had Sirius' particular accent all over it, even if Remus had ignored the untidy handwriting, which he hadn't. Remus looked out of the round kitchen window. Obviously, early afternoon had come and gone. They were on a mission, and they were late. That could only mean that something had gone wrong. It wasn't like them not to keep their word. Not at times like this. Not even Sirius. He went to his study, opened a cherry-wood chest and retrieved a flask from inside it. He uncorked the flask and served it to his lips. "Cheers," he muttered, before swallowing its content in one particularly gruesome gulp.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry placed the hood of his invisibility cloak over his head. He scanned the room around him, making sure he had packed everything he might need. He would not be able to come back. Not after running out on Ron and Hermione. _And Malfoy_, he reminded himself. _Who cares about Malfoy?_ He argued back. _He did save my life._ Harry shook the memory out of his head. _Malfoy got more than enough kicks from it. And anyway, I'm paying him back by not taking him on this dangerous search._

Harry passed through the portrait hole, confusing the Fat Lady with his disembodied password. He strode towards the entrance hall, careful not to his anyone with his waggling broomstick, and wondering what he would do once he got there. Get as far away from the castle and Hermione, that's for sure. There was no reason to risk her just because he was careless enough to fall in the hands of Death Eaters with a sick sense of humour. And Ron. There was no reason to risk Ron either.

He didn't care about risking Malfoy, he just didn't want to be anywhere near him. Especially not after that little experiment Malfoy had, connecting both their Dark Marks. Harry wasn't surprised that Malfoy had a Dark Mark. Like father like son. He was sure other Slytherins had it too. But he was still amazed by the coldness of his heart. He could still feel the pinch of the icy touch whenever he concentrated on the bond Malfoy had created. Connecting their hideous marks had mixed their souls for a few seconds, and Harry still shivered as he remembered how Malfoy's soul had felt. It was worse than he had imagined. 

Harry wanted to see Cho one last time before he left. He knew she was better for the simple reason that she wasn't worse, but he wanted to see it with his own eyes. He stood in front of the closed hospital wing door, wondering if anyone would notice it opening seemingly by itself, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to look, and had to jump aside as Hermione almost walked straight into him. _She's probably here for her boyfriend_. Hermione must have heard his hushed grunt, because she looked around suspiciously, before smiling to herself as if she had just remembered a private joke. She opened the hospital door, and stepped in. Harry held the door behind her just slightly longer than it would take the door to close by itself. Cho was still unconscious, but she seemed at peace. Her cheeks had begun to regain their normal colour. The door closed, missing Harry's fingers by an inch, and he made his way outside the castle.

The first stop in Harry's solo search was where he'd last seen the Pensieve. That was also where he woke up hours later, hurt, and cold, and with the Dark Mark. He remembered hearing horses and seeing numerous hoof prints in the snow. At the time, he had paid no heed to it. He couldn't have cared less about the way his attackers travelled. But now, when he was on the look for them, any detail was important.

Harry paced the edge of the Forbidden Forest, racking his brain for anything else that could help. Nothing came up. Maybe he should have taken his chances with Dumbledore. But now it was too late. After that Daily Prophet article was published, no one would believe he came in good faith. If he had good faith, he should have used it before.

Harry stopped pacing as he realised his invisibility cloak did not prevent his shoes from leaving their mark on the muddy soil. If only he had a point to start. All he needed was someone who was there. He'll figure out a plan as he went on. A face floated in front of his eyes, the full moon face of his attacker. Harry knew whom he must seek. He had a lead. _Goyle_.

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione went out of the library pressing a book to her heart. She measured the book critically. It would make a significant addition to her pack. She might need to use an additional levitation spell. Now there was one more thing she had to do, and then she was all ready to go. Hermione increased her pace, following the route to the hospital wing.

Her insides churning, Hermione opened the infirmary door and took a cautious glance inside. Nothing had changed there since she had left it the day before. Cho was lying still on the bed, white as a sheet. Viktor was sitting by her side, looking more sallow than ever. He looked almost as in need of care as Cho.

"Viktor, we need to talk," Hermione sat beside him, looking at Cho's unconscious form on the bed in front of him.

He looked up at her, saying nothing. Hermione could see her reflection in his dark, distant eyes. He wasn't completely with her, but she had no choice. She had to get this over with, or she may never have the chance.

"Viktor, I -" She choked on her own words.

"You vant to break up vit me," He said, his eyes two pools of sadness.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. Then, she felt she could no longer look him in the eyes, and she bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

"I vos expecting dat. It is okay." He placed a warm hand on her cheek. His touch was different than what she was used to. It was still caring, but it lacked the waves of passion that it usually sent through her.

"It was what I said about the emoplifier, wasn't it?" The second she told him that she had never felt anything like the emotions recorded on it, she knew it was a mistake.

"Not really," he said to her great surprise. "It vos the fact that you repeatedly apologised about it."

"I did?"

"Every few minutes."

"Oh."

"Of every day."

"Ohhh."

"For two weeks." He smiled as she gasped.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, looking truly miserable. "I didn't realise I was so obsessed with it. I just didn't want to hurt you. You're a wonderful guy, and I do care about you." She tried to make him feel a little better. Despite his timid smile, he looked so miserable.

"At first, I vos hoping dat you vill learn to laff me. But ven I saw you kiss Malfoy, it helped me overcome you. If dat is your type, I'm glad you don't laff me."

"I did not kiss Malfoy!" Hermione cried, extremely upset about the implication. "He attacked me! I thought you knew that. You hit him!"

"I hit him because he kissed you vile you vere still my girlfriend, and because it is alvays good to hit Malfoy." Hermione couldn't help but smirk. "But you forget dat I vos in a very good view point to see dat kiss. He certainly vos not kissing you unilaterally."

"That is not true!" exclaimed Hermione, but inside, she knew he was right. She didn't even like Malfoy, but she also didn't have the inner power to resist his _wonderful_ kiss. Maybe it's all for the best. Maybe Viktor was better off thinking she liked Malfoy. If it helped him with the break-up, then she should just let him think that.

"Goodbye, Hermy-own-ninny." He gave her a peck on the cheek, and turned his attention to Cho.

Hermione started for the door. "Goodbye Viktor. Thanks for everything," she whispered before leaving him for good.

aaaaaaaaaa

"What's _he_ doing here?"

Ron and Hermione had just stepped into the entrance hall to see Draco already waiting for them there. That question, dripping with venom, was asked by both boys simultaneously, the second their eyes landed on each other.

"I'm his best friend!" exclaimed Ron to Hermione's visible chagrin.

"Well, I saved his life," Malfoy drawled coldly. "Can you honestly say you did something like that for him?"

"Don't be so self righteous, Malfoy," Ron spat. "If Hermione wasn't there, you would have left him to die."

"Not true," Draco said, sounding very sincere. "I would have done it again, if I had to."

"Oh, please," scowled Ron, but Hermione wondered if it was possible that he actually meant it.

They both sulked for a few seconds, Ron in his fuming, sizzling way, and Draco in his chilly, stiff way. When the awkward moment was no longer bearable, Ron asked, "Where is Harry anyway?"

"Probably trying to ditch us," answered Hermione with a smile.

Ron seemed to steam even worse, thinking of Harry leaving him behind.

"What are you smiling about?" asked Draco, a shadow of a smile decorating his face, too.

"Oh, he's in for a little surprise," Hermione's smile widened. She looked at her watch. "We still have about half an hour. Let's discuss our best course of action."

"The first thing is to find Harry, don't you think?" asked Ron, who managed to relax a little.

"No," said Malfoy coolly. "Let's sit.

"You sit. I'm going to look for him." Ron started walking towards the doors, certain that Hermione would follow him, but she didn't. She took a chair close to the doors to the Great Hall and sat herself comfortably. Ron watched as Malfoy dragged a chair too close to her, and slumped on it like it was a folding beach chair. He hesitated a little, and than decided that Hermione was probably in a greater danger than Harry, and stayed. He tried to get a chair between Hermione and Malfoy, but there was no way to insert it in the few inches gap between them. Eventually, he gave up, and placed it in front of the two.

"Okay," began Hermione with a very decisive voice. "We're looking for whoever snatched Harry on Yule night. Draco, you're the only one of us who was awake that night. Tell us what you remember."

Ron fixed his stare on Hermione. _Draco_? What ever happened to calling him Malfoy?

"I'm afraid I didn't get to see much," Draco said, watching Hermione in much the same intensity as Ron. "I was –" he paused to give Hermione a meaningful look, "I was busy."

Hermione blushed as she remembered what Draco was busy with. He was holding her as she slept through the duration of the sleeping potion's influence. She wondered if he was already in love with her then, and blushed a deeper red. She felt lucky for whatever effect she had on Draco. Without it, he never would have come with her to help Harry's life then, and he never would have come now. She had no trouble accepting the fact that they needed his special expertise with the Dark Arts.

"Hermione, are you all right?" asked Ron, worried about her flushed face. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead. "You feel normal."

Hermione held Ron's hand against her cheek, indulging on its coolness against her feverish skin. The penetrating look Draco gave her made her insides freeze, and she dropped Ron's hand. She no longer needed anything to cool her down. She took a deep breath. "Maybe we should try a different angle." She ignored the fact that her voice quivered, hoping that the others would do the same. "Everything we know about that night is from what Harry told us. Unfortunately, his story doesn't make much sense."

"What did he say?" asked Draco, who, naturally, hadn't heard Potter's version of the events.

"We should try to screen out the facts," suggested Ron.

"What doesn't make sense?" Draco tried again.

"Well, we're sure that the Pensieve was stolen," Hermione started listing.

"And that Harry went chasing after someone who was in the castle," stated Ron dryly. He couldn't understand how it was always Harry in the spot light.

"And we know he was taken someplace for a few hours."

"Can you please tell me what Harry said about that night?" said Draco, returning to his old drawl. He was getting increasingly resentful.

"How do you know he was taken?" asked Ron, more to annoy Draco than anything.

Hermione choked. Ron didn't know about the Dark Mark on Harry's arm, and she certainly didn't want to be the one to tell him.

"Because otherwise, he would have been frozen solid hours before we found him," replied Draco scornfully to Hermione's relief. "Now, tell me everything he told you."

They did.

"That's not a lot of information," noted Draco when they were done. They both nodded. "So, the arrogant git is claiming that he was able to levitate the Pensieve?"

"Just for a short distance," said Ron, hoping that this didn't sound like the diminution of Harry's achievement that it actually was. As much as he hated Malfoy, he had to agree that 'arrogant git' suited this part of the story very well.

"He's probably right about Gregory's father," Draco mused out loud. "He is in You-Know-Who's service. Could have been him. We should probably seek him out."

A loud thud was heard from the direction of the great oak door, as if someone was banging on it with a huge fist, or if something was thrown at it.

"What was that?" Ron turned sharply towards the door.

Hermione glanced at her watch. "Oops," she piped. "I guess that would be Harry." She strolled towards the door as naturally as she could, leaving the stunned Ron and Draco far behind, and managed to hold back her sprint until she was only a few feet away from the great oak door. She opened it to find Harry's head hovering at waist-height above the top step, looking greatly bemused.

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius woke up with a horrible headache. _Hangover? I don't remember drinking._ The memory of the events that let to his current situation started streaming back into Sirius' consciousness. _Oh._ And then _SNAPE! If I lay my hands on that –_

"Good morning, Black."

Sirius opened his eyes. The hatred that filled him left no room for the pain and it simply evaporated into thin air. A room formed in front of his eyes. It was as small as a room can get without feeling crowded. Its walls were made of large blocks of rough white stone. No windows were visible, but dim light lingered in the room, giving everything a grey tone. Snape was sitting five feet away, leaning against the stone wall, looking at Sirius with bored eyes.

Sirius jumped at him. At least his mind told him that he jumped at him. His body, on the other hand, kept lying, slouched on the white flagstones. He tried to curse Snape, but all that came out was a deep, meaningful snarl.

"Don't strain yourself. We put three different restraining hexes on you." Snape's voice was as indifferent as his eyes. For lack of a better thing to do, Sirius snarled again. "I see three hexes still didn't restrain you completely. You're strong." Sirius thought he heard a trace of appreciation in Snape's monotonous voice, but it must have been only his imagination.

Snape shook his feet as if to restore the blood flow in them. "I've been waiting for you to wake up for quite some time. I need you to understand I had no choice. If it hadn't been me, it would have been somebody else. This way I've gained a little more of You-Know-Who's trust. And this was good for you too - Don't look at me like that - I used a mild stunning curse, while the others were firing all known torture curses. Believe me, you're much better off with what I hit you with."

Snape rose to his feet and walked slowly over to where Sirius was lying. He stepped over some obstacles. Adjusting his eyes to the shadows, Sirius was able to recognise those obstacles as Arabella and Mundungus.

"I need your help. If you say one wrong word about me to any one of the death eaters around, I'm as good as dead. They must not know I'm still in touch with Dumbledore. This is frustrating. If I take the restrain off your voice, do you promise to behave?" Snape's voice took a sudden turn towards desperate. Sirius didn't react, still considering.

"I'll take your refrain from gnarling as an agreement." Snape pointed his wand towards Sirius and muttered several words.

"Eehhh –" Sirius tried his voice. "You scummy little piece of –"

"Come now, Black. You don't want to be heard. I don't want you to be heard. We'll both be dead in less time than you could say, 'Rita Skeeter is a Death Eater'".

"What?!" Sirius was so shocked he forgot about being nasty to Snape.

"Didn't you know? Than why on earth did you come to her house?"

"To save her from the Death Eaters who were controlling her using the Imperius Curse?" Sirius sounded hesitant.

Neither of the men could remember the last time Snape laughed so heartily. "So you had no idea? You didn't know this was You-Know-Who's headquarters? You just walked right in? You should change your name to Daniel." Snape paused to give Sirius a snide look. "On second thought, Daniel is not really a good name for a dog. 'Spot', I think, would be more appropriate." 

That reminded Sirius why he was so angry. "You," he rumbled. "What possessed you to tell them the dog was me? I could have got away if you hadn't." Once again, Sirius was harshly reminded that he couldn't move. His desire to grab Snape by the throat was so evident, that Snape took a hurried step backward.

"If I hadn't, they would have known I'm a spy. There was someone watching us. Someone who knew you were that dog." Snape searched in Sirius' eyes for a glimpse of understanding. 

"Who?"

Snape swallowed hard. He took another step back, and turned his back towards Sirius. "It was - Pettigrew." He swirled back to face Sirius, but failed to meet his eyes.

Sirius closed his eyes. His heart leaped with joy. For a moment, he forgot were her was, and felt free - more liberated than he had been for fifteen years. For the first time, someone had seen Pettigrew. Someone whose testimony would be accepted by the Ministry. This was the end of his life as a renegade. _Welcome - to the first day - of the rest of your life_.

"I'm sorry, Black. I saw him for the first time two days ago. I didn't believe you before - I said some things -"

"Apology accepted," Sirius interrupted. He couldn't stand hearing Snape grovelling with a shaky voice.

"Good." Snape's voice was steady and venomous again, as if his previous words had never been spoken. He stepped towards a heavy metal door that stood on the other side of the room, opened it, and started walking through. "I'm glad you understand, though I must admit, I did enjoy hitting you."

As the heavy door closed behind Snape, Sirius tried to cover his face with his hands. Before he remembered he couldn't, he found out that he actually could.

aaaaaaaaaa

As Harry saw Hermione's wide smile, he started to understand the very recent developments. Moments ago, he was striding towards Hogsmeade, heading towards the post office in order to find Goyle's home address, and take the train there. The next moment, he was uncontrollably flying back to the Hogwarts castle, faster than a speeding Firebolt.

"You put a spell on me," stated Harry angrily, glaring up at Hermione.

"You tried to ditch us," retorted Hermione, glaring right back at his detached face.

Harry took Hermione's hand to help him up, making her jump a foot in the air. He had forgotten he still had the invisibility cloak over most of him, making his outstretched hand touch Hermione with no previous warning. This seemed like a good option for retaliation. He pulled the hood over his head, and began tickling Hermione, attacking her from all sides, making sure she couldn't catch him. A small part of him wanted Hermione to catch him. He told himself that it was just so that the revenge would become more challenging, but somehow found that argument unconvincing.

Very quickly, Hermione found herself rolling at the top of the flight of stairs, unable to defend herself, or to stop laughing. But the laughter was only tickle-induced. Inside, she did not feel like laughing at all. She felt Harry's hands touching her, teasing her, sending her stomach into a complete loop every time it made contact with her. She could smell him when he neared her, but she could no longer do anything about it. Her heart pounded faster than ever. She tried unsuccessfully to convince herself that it was just the physical effort of laughing so hard.

"What happened to her?" asked Ron, as he and Malfoy caught up with her at the door.

"No idea," said Draco. "Maybe someone put a tickling charm on her."

Harry was alerted by the talking voices. He peeked beyond the door and saw the two boys looking right through him into the darkened void. Malfoy and Ron. Great, two more people to try and hold him back. Harry let go of Hermione, and started descending the stairs quickly, before the boys could catch on.

Both Ron and Draco looked at Hermione, whose seizure of laughter has finally ebbed away, and was lying still on her back, working to catch her breath. They turned questioning looks to one another, and then turned their heads back, wearing matching disgusted countenances.

"There's no point in trying to escape," Hermione called, still gasping for air, surprising Draco and Ron with this statement. Neither of them was trying to escape. They both stood perfectly still by her.

"The spell will just catch you again in half an hour," Hermione continued. "Care to take another flying crash into the door?"

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Harry took off the invisibility cloak, and commenced climbing the stairs with a protesting slouch. He wasn't even halfway up when Draco and Ron recovered from their initial shock, and took either side of Hermione.

"Are you all right?" asked Draco, supporting her head with one hand, and interlacing his other hand's fingers with hers.

Ron brushed away gently dishevelled strands of hair that covered Hermione's face. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Hermione had no idea what to do. She kept her eyes shut. As flattered as she was by both of them worrying about her, she wished they were both gone. She did not want to be in the middle of a fight between the two.

A frightening sight greeted Harry as he finally reached the top few stairs. "Get your hands off her," he let out in a low grumble that made both boys jump in alarm.

"I didn't mean you, Ron," Harry said in his normal voice, wondering why Ron looked so guilty. "I meant Malfoy." He straightened a look at Malfoy, and reproduced the low grumble. "Don't ever touch her again."

"What if she wants me to?" drawled Draco, looking at Harry through narrowed eyes.

Hermione sensed the build-up of electricity between the two. _They are going to be more difficult than I imagined_, she mused. She took each of them by the hand, and marched them into the entrance hall, not giving either of them a chance to retort. Her action broke the accumulating tension between the two.

"We should get going," said Ron dryly, looking worriedly out of the window as the night was spreading its cold blanket over the school grounds. "Where were you going, anyway?" he directed the question to Harry.

"To find Goyle." Harry sighed to the sight of questioning looks around him. "Well, he's the one who attacked me when I dropped the Pensieve. It figures that he would know where I was taken."

"Dropped the Pensieve," Draco repeated after him. "Yes, I've heard that fantastic story of yours about levitating it."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't levitate a magically loaded object. It would drain your magic faster than you could say 'squib'. I think you made that up just like you made up the story of how Diggory died."

Harry launched himself at Draco, sending all his weight forward into a single great punch. Unfortunately, Draco moved aside, and let Harry scud past him with his fist in the lead, crashing into the wall behind him. Before Harry had another go at Draco, Ron grabbed him around the waist, and whispered calming words in his ear. Harry let the tension in his muscles relax slowly, and then attempted to wriggle out of Ron's grip. The way Ron held him was nice, but with all his heart he wished it had been Hermione.

"Come on," said Draco with a sly smile. "If you're done fondling each other, I know where to find Goyle's father."

Ron and Harry broke apart hurriedly, both blushing to the roots of their hair. They walked to the outside, careful not to look at one another.

"And I was going to find him in the wizarding yellow-pages."

"I was just wondering," said Hermione, her brows wrinkled with thought, "Finding Goyle was exactly the course of action Draco suggested."

The looks Draco and Harry exchanged after that almost made both of them freeze.

aaaaaaaaaa

It was time for Draco to start administering the old Malfoy charm. Nothing stole a girl's heart like taking care of her. Except for diamonds, maybe, but that was saved for the more advanced stages of courting. 

Draco stopped and turned towards the group as the menacing forms of the Forbidden Forest's trees started closing on them. "I don't think Hermione should come with us," he said.

"What? Why?" snapped Hermione.

"Well, at the risk of sounding cruel," he began,

"That would be a first," muttered Ron sarcastically. 

Draco glared at him and went on, "You are a Mudblood. And you are going on a dangerous mission with two Death Eaters and a moron," he couldn't resist the opportunity to punch it in to Ron.

"I'm a muggle-born!" Hermione's voice drowned Ron's protest.

"And I'm not a Death Eater!" Harry proclaimed.

"Oh, no? Than what's this?" Draco grabbed Harry's arm and bared the Dark Mark on it.

Ron goggled at it, his mouth hanging open.

"Oh, Close your mouth, Ron," Hermione said angrily. "He's no Death Eater. He just had that branded on him when he was unconscious."

"Is that true?" Ron looked at Harry, dreading the answer.

Harry nodded and pulled his arm away. Malfoy's touch on his skin was like frozen knifes. "He is right, though," Harry said, looking at Hermione and ignoring Ron's dubious look. "You should stay here. Malfoy is a real Death Eater, and we're bound to encounter more. It is not safe for you."

Draco looked to the sky, as if wishing for a shooting star to hit him. Harry was using his own tricks to lure Hermione. No falling star came. Few regular stars could be seen through the dense vegetation.

"Oh, and it's so very safe for you!" said Hermione angrily.

"I don't have a choice," retorted Harry. "For me its either this or Azkaban. Not much of a choice."

"And what about Ron?"

"What about me?" Ron was jolted back into the conversation.

"He's in much less danger than you," ruled Draco. "He's a pureblood. He can always claim that he has come to join the dark forces, but you don't have that option."

"I would never do such thing!" exclaimed Ron, his Gryffindor blood steaming.

"Than you should stay here too," stated Draco. Getting rid of the Weasley was not such a bad idea even if it didn't help him get the girl.

He looked at Harry. The boy was competing with him for the girl's heart. It was time to discredit him a little. "And as for you," he said with narrowed eyes, "I don't believe your story about getting that mark when you were unconscious. I think you chose to have it." He reached for Harry's arm again, but this time Harry was too quick for him, and moved away before Draco could grab it.

"You're wrong, Malfoy." Harry's voice was dripping hatred.

"Prove me wrong," teased Draco, the illuminated wand in his hand giving additional malice to the words.

"How can I?" said Harry in frustration. He hoped the others didn't take Draco's words as good.

"Actually, I think we can prove that beyond any doubt," said Hermione, rummaging her rucksack.

Draco paled ever so slightly. This was not going his way at all. He did not want Harry to prove his innocence, certainly not to Hermione. "So, you developed a Dark-Mark-tracer?" he mocked.

"No," said Hermione, pulling out a clear crystal flask and holding it up victoriously. "I have Veritaserum Syrup."

Harry took a step back, and Draco gasped. Ron, who had suffered one too many shocks for such a short period of time, remained staring at her, looking numb.

Harry considered his situation. "I'm not taking that," he announced finally. No matter what that would make the others think, some things were better to remain private.

Draco closed his mouth and smiled. Maybe this was going well after all. "You're absolutely right not to take it," he said seriously, a grey spark playing in his eyes. "You might end up telling us what really happened."

"Not funny, Malfoy. I don't mind telling you where I got the mark. I'm afraid of what else you're gonna ask."

"What on earth could you tell me that I don't know? The password to the Gryffindor tower? That _is_ a secret you should guard with your life, Potter."

Harry was thinking more in the line of Sirius' whereabouts. "There are - things," he said, trying to sound mysterious.

"Well, there are Weasley and Hermione here. They'll ask the questions. You can gag me, if you'd like." Draco smiled mischievously, but his smile was directed at Hermione.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea, with or without a truth potion," Harry smirked.

"Forget it," said Draco. "I believe you. You didn't want the Dark Mark put on your arm, you're not a Death Eater, and you also levitated a Pensieve," he jeered.

"All right!" Harry fell for the provocation. "I'll do it. But if you ask anything irrelevant to the mark, you'd better run really fast, because I'll kill you." His green eyes burned the inside of Draco's scull. "I don't mean just cause you a serious injury, I mean _kill_ you."

With a swift motion he took the flask from Hermione's unresisting hand, and knowing that if he gave it any more thought he would retract, poured three drops into his mouth.

No one spoke. They all waited anxiously for something to happen. "How long does this take?" Harry asked.

"It should be instantaneous," replied Hermione. "But you should know better than anyone. You're the one who's seen it work."

"You have?" asked Draco, surprised.

"When Dumbledore questioned Barty Crouch," answered Harry, not knowing exactly why he said that.

"Is the potion working?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I'd expect a 'yes' to come out of my mouth if it was working." Harry grimaced. He didn't really mean to give that long speech. "I guess it does," he added as an afterthought.

"Lets give it a test," suggested Hermione, as she sat herself on a near-by tree-stump. "We'll calibrate it just like a polygraph machine. All right?"

"Sure," said Harry, taking after her, and finding another fallen stump to sit on. Ron and Draco had a short concealed race to the position next to Hermione. Ron reached her a second earlier, and sat almost underneath Draco. Reluctant, Draco trudged towards Harry, and sat as far away from him as the stump allowed.

"What's a polio-graph?" asked Ron, not sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

"It's a muggle version of Veritaserum," Draco told him with a patronising voice. "Not very effective. I would have thought a muggle-lover like your father would have one at home."

The attention was shifted momentarily from Harry to Draco. "How would a proud pureblood like yourself would know about this?" questioned Hermione.

"Advanced muggle studies," Draco said curtly.

"_You_ take Muggle Studies?" Ron found this hard to believe.

"Know thy enemy," quoted Draco.

"ENEMY?" howled Hermione.

Draco knew when it was time to stop talking. "Maybe not the best choice of words," he said, looking intensely into her passionate brown eyes, trying to estimate the damage of his words.

"You're an arrogant, slimy, stupid git, Malfoy," said Harry. "I think the truth syrup is making me say that." Harry released a tiny moan and folded slightly, holding his side.

Hermione looked at him worried. "Let's get this over with," she said. "I'm going to ask you two questions. Try to answer both with 'yes'."

Draco thought that was a stupid test, but he didn't want to aggravate Hermione any further, so he said nothing.

"Is your name Harry Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry. He didn't feel any different than normal. Maybe the potion wasn't working. Maybe he was immune to Veritaserum.

"Is your name Draco Malfoy?"

"Yuck! Y -" Harry tried to say 'yes', but a gale of pain seized him. It was very much like the Cruciatus Curse. "No!" he called out the answer that carved itself into his brain. The pain has immediately ceased. "It's working," he panted.

"So, Potter -" Draco began.

"I'll ask the questions," Hermione interrupted him adamantly.

She softened her voice, trying to conceal her tension. "Harry, are you a Death Eater?" She shot straight to the point.

Harry wanted to say 'No', but he began to feel the pain build up. He tried to form an 'I don't know' answer, but that only increased the pain. He felt the word 'yes' forming in his head, although he knew it wasn't his own thought. This part was very similar to the Imperius Curse. _Great_, he thought. _Two unforgivable curses for the price of one_. "I guess this mark says I am," he admitted, not daring to look her in the eye.

Hermione's voice shook when she spoke again. "I guess that's it, then."

"No," objected Harry. "I didn't want it."

"Than why didn't you want Hermione to come?" asked Draco, taking advantage of Hermione's downcast spirit. 

"Because I -" before the words formed in his mouth, they reached Harry's brain. _Because I love her_. Harry rolled off the tree stump, crying out in pain, but refused to let the words out. "None - of your - business," he groaned through gritted teeth.

"That's all right, stop, STOP!" Hermione called. She jumped to Harry, knocking down Ron as she went. "You don't have to tell us!"

When the agony subsided, Harry saw Hermione's face very close to his. It was a mask of worry. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he looked into her eyes. _She's worried about me, but now I know what I feel for her. I love her. Could she ever feel the same for me?_ He turned his head away, afraid that his eyes would surrender his thoughts. _She is with Viktor Krum. She loves him. What was I thinking?_

Hermione's knees began ache where they had hit the hard forest ground. She ignored the pain, and continued stroking Harry's wet temples. He looked all right now, but a moment ago - what has she done to him? She would have died if anything had happened to him. Hermione tried to catch Harry's eye, but he refused to look at her. She straightened her back, and tilted her head, pondering. The pain in her knees increased steadily. _What was he trying to hide, anyway?_

"I swear to you," Harry said, still not looking at her. "I didn't want this mark. I don't know who put it on me, and I would -" he tried to say 'I would never hurt you', but according to the new wave of anguish that started welling inside him, he realised that wasn't the truth. He didn't mean to hurt Cho as well, but he had nearly killed her.

From this close, Hermione saw the signs of his attempt at another lie very clearly. She got up, and strolled over to her rucksack. She pulled another flask out, and tossed it towards Harry, who was now sitting on the forest floor.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Bezoar juice." Hermione didn't look at him as she said that.

"I thought it's only good for poisons."

"Veritaserum is a type of poison. Just drink some of it, and let's go. Half the night is already gone." She sounded very impatient, which she considered as a good thing. Much better than whimpering, which was truly what she wanted to do.

Harry got up, and took a small sip from the flask. "Draco Malfoy is adorable," he tried. No pain. The Bezoar juice was working. He gave Hermione the half-full flask back, placing it carefully in her hand. He let his fingers linger on hers until she pulled her hand back.

Hermione turned away from Harry, afraid to look at him and getting a little apprehensive about the potential danger he presented. She packed both flasks hurriedly, and turned into the forest, leading the way from two steps ahead, before breaking down into tears.

aaaaaaaaaa

The dark Lord had been watching the scene in his silver hearth, as he has often done in the last several days. A wide smile was spread across his face. As wide as his snake-like face allowed.

"You see, Nagini," he hissed in a language intelligible only to the serpent at his feet, "Our plan is proceeding well." He stopped to watch Harry slowly heave himself from the ground, and begin to shamble along the path set by his friends. "His friends are losing their trust in him, and he is letting himself be led by one of us."

Voldemort turned away from the fire. The image behind his back immediately dissolved into ordinary flames. "Very sloppy," he hissed with half-disappointment. "How unrewarding. I was expecting a more intriguing battle. But, no matter. Soon, he will kill one of his companions, and then, my dear Nagini, then - we shall have him."

aaaaaaaaaa

"Hermione, wait up."

"Leave me alone, Draco. I need a few minutes."

"May I remind you that you are walking deep into the Forbidden Forest, you don't know where you are, and what's worse, you have absolutely no idea where you're going?" Draco caught up with her, leaving Weasley a few yards behind. Potter dragged his feet way in the back, increasing the distance between him and the rest of them all.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this."

"What exactly is it that I 'found out', Draco?"

Draco placed a tender hand on her back, creating twirls of chill between her shoulder blades. "I'm sorry," he repeated. Hermione increased her pace in a failed attempt to shake Draco away. "We should have taken a right turn there," he added hurriedly.

"Where?"

"Just now. You passed it two second ago."

"There was no turn."

"Oh yes, there was."

Hermione turned so abruptly that she walked right into Ron. Draco jumped aside in time to avoid the collision.

"Are you all right?" Ron wrapped her with both his hands, barely managing to stop her from falling.

"Yes, thank you." She made no move to get away from him. She looked too tired to do anything.

"Your face is wet. Why are you crying?" Ron held her with one arm, releasing his other hand to gently wipe her face. He moved his thumb under her eyes, cupping her chin in his large palm. She leaned her cheek on his hand, seeking comfort in its familiarity. Ron felt his heart racing wildly. Her face was so close, and getting closer still. He could sense her warm breath on the heal of his hand. An inch closer, and he would feel it on his lips.

Draco cleared his throat as loudly as he could, which had absolutely no effect on either Ron or Hermione. Ignoring the fact that he couldn't possibly fit in the tiny gap that separated the two, Draco stepped between them.

"Go away, Malfoy!"

"You're in my way, Weasley." Draco didn't know if he was referring to the road, or the girl.

"What way would that be? There is no road here."

"Yes there is, you just can't see it."

"Oh, that's just fantastic, Malfoy. Do you honestly expect us to get off the trail and into the forest just because you say there is a road here?"

"That would be a good summary, yes."

"Forget about it," Ron said with a particularly nasty tone. "I don't trust you."

"Walking off the trail does sound a little dangerous, Draco," Hermione contributed.

"I'm telling you, there's a trail right here. It's only visible if you have one of these." Draco exposed the Dark Mark on his arm. "Potter, tell them there's -," Draco's voice faded. "Where is Potter?"

Hermione's knees nearly gave way. She turned her head slowly towards the way they came from. It was dark and very empty. "Harry!" she called from the top of her lungs. A few moments ago she was crying because she felt she had lost him, and now she really had. "Harry!"

Harry came into view with lightening speed, rushing in from a turn down the road. He was with them seconds later. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" said Hermione angrily. "You disappeared in the middle of the Forbidden Forest! 'What's wrong' indeed!"

"I was right behind you," Harry said defensively. He lowered his voice so only Hermione could hear him. "I didn't think you wanted me around."

Hermione felt stupid for her hysterical behaviour. "I do want you near. No, I _don't_ want you anywhere around me. Argh!" she called in frustration. She stomped her feet like a little girl. Her bruised knees almost crumpled underneath her, and felt even more stupid. This was an unusual experience for Hermione. She took a deep breath, and let the cold night air chill her feverish brain. "Go away, just don't go too far."

Harry blinked at her suspiciously, this being the second time in the same day he had reason to believe that she was not all herself. The first time had been when she asked Malfoy for help, and look where that got him.

Draco pointed towards the turn he wished they'd take. "Potter, we're going to follow this trail until we reach a hut. If you lose us, just continue with it until you reach the hut. We will be waiting for you there." Draco tried to ramble casually, in order to divert Potter from the main issue.

Harry nodded. _It worked_, thought Draco. "What trail?" Harry asked, after scanning the trees with a confused expression. _Or maybe not_.

"Don't play games with me, Potter. I know you can see that trail." Draco glared at Harry. "Just follow it."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

Draco felt three pairs of eyes stabbing him from every direction. He started towards the hut, showing his back to the group. "You can come with me, if you'd like, or you can stay stranded in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. There are still several hours till dawn."

Hermione followed Draco without hesitation. She had trusted him enough to follow him so far, there was no point in stopping now. No, trust was the wrong word. She rationalised that since Draco was in love with her, he would do nothing to hurt her. Ron came right after, not willing to leave Hermione with Malfoy. He considered placing a supportive arm around her waist, but decided against it, afraid of her reaction. Harry didn't really care where they went. He resumed his shambling, this time careful not to lose the sight of Hermione's back.

Surprisingly, after only a few minutes on the visible-to-Draco-only trail, a little hut popped up in front of them. It reminded Harry of Hagrid's hut, with the difference of the scenery. True, you could see the forest from Hagrid's kitchen window while making dinner. Harry just hoped that this wasn't the case where the hut was visible while the forest was planning dinner.

Draco stopped the group several yards from their destination. "Let me go check the place first."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Is there someone in there you need to warn before we arrive?"

"Don't be stupid, Weasley," said Draco, pleased to see that Hermione, too, fixed Ron with a dissatisfied stare. "If I wanted to warn someone inside, I could've just led you up there and made some noise. Wouldn't have had to strain myself either. Making noise is something you're good at."

With that, Draco left the group, putting out the light at the tip of his wand as he walked. He came back a few minutes later, to find everybody at exactly the same position as they were when he'd left.

"Let's go before something here decides to have you for dinner," Draco said, moving his re-lightened wand around them in a circle.

"That means the coast is clear?" Ron made sure.

"It is now," stated Draco dryly.

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius had spent the last few hours watching his friend sleeping. Snape had released the bounding charms that held him, smartly doing so after he was out of Sirius' reach. Sirius used his renewed ability to move to check on his peers. Since they seemed to be deep in a normal sleep, he let them be.

Sirius couldn't tell how long it had been. The room contained nothing that indicated the passing time. He did know his limbs were completely numb by the time Arabella had begun to move. At first, she just winced slightly, producing delicate moans. Then, her eyelids fluttered, and she eventually opened her eyes. She seemed startled by the alien environment. She scanned the room, beginning at the low white ceiling, and moving downwards. Her eyes paused for a moment on Mundungus, who had just started to move, and then stopped on Sirius.

"Mornin' Arabella," Sirius said.

Arabella let out an anguished grunt and shut her eyes again.

"Horrible headache, huh? Had one too. It's about to get much worse once I tell you where we are."

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco left the door to the hut ajar, and they all walked through it. Harry was the last one to enter. He closed the door behind him, and released a sigh of relief. He was happy to leave the hundreds hungry eyes of the forest outside the cosy hut.

One look around was enough to realise that the hut wasn't as cosy from the inside as it had looked from the outside. The wall in front of him had one large silver fireplace in the middle, and the rest of it, as were two of the other walls, was covered with shelves. On top of the shelves, in a very orderly manner, were lines upon lines of small flames, burning in a unified green. The fourth wall had jars stacked by it, but it was mostly missing, which led Harry to believe it opened up to more rooms.

Hermione walked over to one of the small flames. It looked like fire, but it was green. It didn't feel hot. Actually, the room was relatively cold for a place with so much fire burning. She raised a hand to check the warmth of the flame.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," Draco whispered in her ear, standing very close behind her.

Hermione felt a shiver starting at the delicate hair behind her ear, and spreading towards the rest of her body. "Why not?" Her voice quaked more than she had anticipated.

"Because," Draco began patiently, pronouncing each syllable separately, making a point of almost touching Hermione's ear with his lips, "It would alert the Death Eater who's connected to this specific flame." Hermione shivered.

"You're cold," whispered Draco. "Here." He opened his cloak and wrapped it around both of them, holding Hermione from behind. When she was well-wrapped and warm, he kept his arms around her, and started nuzzling the scruff of her neck. Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side, allowing him an easier access.

Draco felt a strong tug from behind, but worse, he felt Harry's existence inside him. "I told you to get your hands off her!" Harry howled, a little off from Draco's touch in his soul.

"That's none of your business, Potter! And anyway, she was cold. I was just helping her get warmer."

"You? Help her get warmer? You're colder than a snowman, Malfoy. If she's that cold, I'll give her _my_ cloak. In its unoccupied form."

"I'm not that cold," Hermione interrupted the grapple. "Honestly."

"You were shivering," Draco insisted.

Hermione knew exactly why she was shivering. "It was because of what you said about the flames," she said. It was actually more because of the distance from which he had said it.

"All right," said Draco, taking a step backward. "I think we should all get a few hours of rest before we go on." He scanned the exhausted faces around him with a vain smirk. "I think I'll take the first watch."

"Forget about it, Malfoy," said Ron. "I don't trust you to watch over me while I'm asleep."

"If you haven't noticed, Weasley, we're in the communications centre of You-Know-Who. All I have to do, is pass my hand through these flames, and the place will be swarming with Death Eaters." Draco made a threatening gesture towards one of the shelves.

Ron went completely white and his freckles jumped into hiding. "Don't do that."

"What? This?" Draco waved his hand even closer to the flames.

Ron jumped on him, and grabbed his hand, pinning it to the side of his body. Draco swirled in his place, turned his back to Ron, and stabbed his elbow hard in Ron's side. Ron's ribs made a sickening cracking noise. He folded to the ground, dragging Draco with him. They both started rolling on the floor, trying and succeeding to hurt each other as much as they could.

Hermione looked at them with a detached feeling, as if this was a weird dream. With horror, she suddenly realised they were about to roll into one of the larger fires burning in the room. "Harry!" she called to the one person in the room that still seemed sane.

There was no need for Hermione to call him. Harry rushed towards the wrestling mess the second he understood they weren't joking. He grabbed a handful of filled silky robes in each hand, and pulled.

Harry fell backward, and found himself sitting beneath a very flustered Draco Malfoy. He miscalculated the strength it would take to untangle the scuffling knot. He saw Ron relax his muscles, having Malfoy's weight removed from his chest. Ron rested on his back, and stretched his long arms to the side. He almost placed his hand inside the largest flame, when Hermione jumped in and stopped it.

Hermione felt so relieved she was able to block Ron's hand in time, that she collapsed beside him, still hugging his hand.

Ron was moved. Hermione seemed like someone who was just saved from his worst nightmare. "I'm all right," he assured her.

"Huh?" said Hermione. She was still too engrossed in her mental image of the room being filled with black-robed and masked evil wizards. "Oh." She realised she still had Ron's hand, and released it. "I'm sorry for jumping on you, Ron, but you were about to stick your hand in that flame."

Ron, who up until now found her nursing him rather endearing, paled to the verge of blue. "What... which flame?" he stammered. He looked to the side and saw it behind Hermione's back. He shuddered, and released a tiny weep. "I'm glad you stopped me."

Hermione got to her feet, a very determined look on her face. She looked down at Ron. "Ron, go to sleep. Draco will watch us for two hours, and than you'll take his place. Harry, get out from under Draco. You're going to bed, too. And so am I." An unpleasant thought just occurred to her. "Draco, how many bedrooms does this place have?"

"Enough," answered Draco, not showing any intention to get off Harry. "Just don't take the second one on the left."

"Why?"

"Because that one's already occupied."

"You mean - you want it?"

"Yes. That's it. That room is mine."

"Oh, I see. Well, good night everybody." She followed Ron, who had already left, accepting her authority.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"If I ask nicely, would you get off me?"

"Beg."

"What?!"

"Beg me to get off you. You're the one who got us to this position in the first place. Come on, beg."

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"If you wish to live to see the light of day, I suggest you get up now."

"When you put it that way." Draco heaved himself with deliberation.

"You didn't have to stick that elbow in my thigh, you know."

"I needed to lean against something."

"You did it after you were already on your feet. You actually bent over to do it."

"Next time, you should try the begging."

Harry gave Malfoy one last glare, and left the room, walking with a slight limp. He felt anticipation beginning to well inside him. It had been a while since he last slept, and he was looking forward to the wonderful dreams that lately filled his nights.

aaaaaaaaaa

"Hermione, wake up."

"Wha- what? Is that you, Harry?" Hermione tried to give a shape to the blur that was shaking her shoulder.

"No, It's Draco."

Hermione sat bolt upright, rubbing her eyes to chase away the sleep. "What are you doing here, Draco?"

"It's your turn to take the watch."

"I thought Ron was supposed to replace you."

"That's what you said, yes. But if you think I'm going into Weasley's bedroom, you'd better think again."

"This is stupid, Draco. It's Ron's turn to take the watch."

"Actually, I thought you'd say that, so I took his watch as well. You've all been sleeping for four hours now. It's technically your turn."

"What?! It's almost morning, then, and you didn't get any sleep. You'll be completely useless tomorrow."

"I'll be fine. Won't be my first white night." Draco sat on the edge of her bed and placed a hand on Hermione's upper arm. "Thanks for worrying, though."

Hermione was still very warm from the sleep, and his hand was like the rush of cold water. She instinctively covered it with her palm, trying to warm it up a bit. Draco wrapped his other hand around her, his chest pressing against hers, trapping her hand between them.

Draco used the dim pre-dawn light to stare deep into her eyes. They were warm, and tender, and reminded him somewhat of what Harry's soul had felt like. He pushed away the thought about Harry, and concentrated in Hermione's eyes. They were a rich shade of brown, and seemed anticipating.

Hermione felt Draco's gaze piercing her heart. She wanted to push him away, but found herself completely enthralled by his eyes. His pupils were extremely dilated, which made them almost completely black, with the thinnest ring of silver in the rim, to indicate he had an iris.

She knew where this was leading. Held tightly in his arms, she wasn't able to fight against his grip and against the wishes of her own body at the same time. "Get away from me, Malfoy," she said, struggling to form the words.

Draco didn't say anything, he didn't move, either. He just kept holding her, pressing against her even harder. He closed his eyes, and began leaning closer, his breath sending waves of chill from Hermione's cheeks, going up and down her entire body.

"Don't you dare try and kiss me," she choked.

He opened his eyes and looked at her haughtily. His pupils shrank a bit, and she was able to see some more of the silver around them. "Are you sure?" he whispered, every syllable puffing another wave of chill on Hermione.

As much as she wanted, Hermione was no longer able to speak. She groaned her answer, and tried to turn away her head. Draco took his hand off her arm, and placed it on her nape, forcing her head forward. He ignored her faint protest, and pressed his mouth hard against hers. He felt her lips spread in acceptance. Slowly, he started teasing her tongue with his, galvanising her with each strike. His explorations of her mouth became longer with each of his entries, and he felt her completely melting under his kiss.

When he felt the kiss was just right, Draco moved his head slightly backwards. He felt Hermione's weight pressing heavily against his embracing arm. He released some of the force with which he supported her, and she slumped back into her bed, her body weak and shaky. Draco gave her a charming smile before leaning forward and kissing her again.

When the second kiss was over, Hermione felt a familiar Filibuster Firework fizzing in her stomach, ready to blast. She remained lying on the bed, pressed under Draco's weight, flushed, and confused. No, not confused. She was down right outraged. How dare he make her feel like that? The arrogant brat thinks he could just take her by storm. He believes everything would just go his way. He –

He kissed her again. This time, Hermione used her free hand to move it through his hair. It was softer than his silk robes. It felt like mercury between her fingers – fluid, soft, elusive. When the kiss was done, she didn't want to let go. And then she remembered – _Malfoy_. True, ever since his confession in the library, she knew he wouldn't do anything to harm her. She trusted him with her and Harry's life for that, but that did not include this. She collected every shred of self-control she had, and pushed him away.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry fell asleep almost instantly. He found a room next to Hermione's that contained a large four-poster and a sink. He washed himself up a bit, got dressed again, in case he needed to jump into action in a hurry and plonked onto the four-poster bed. The mattress was soft and welcoming, and Harry was immediately wrapped in the warm feeling of his dreams.

_He was flying with his father again. They reached together the last of an incredible number of Snitches, and were about to fly back towards their home. Harry knew the feeling of home – it smelled like his mother's cooking and his father's mischievous tricks. Harry loved it. He loved the vast grounds outside it, with the roses his mother had kept. He loved its green tiles, and the silver eaves that decorated it..._

Harry woke up with a start. It took him a few seconds to return to reality and realise what it was that woke him. This was exactly what Malfoy was talking about. The green and silver. It was in every one of his sweet dreams. Was this really Voldemort's signature?

Odd noises coming from Hermione's room took Harry's mind off the dream. He sat bolt up right and listened. He heard it again, but couldn't make out what it was. He got out of his bed, and stalked towards Hermione's room, his wand held in front of him.

Without a light from his wand, Harry could see almost nothing out of the ordinary. There was nobody standing in the room, and the only moving figure has that of Hermione, on the bed. Or was it really Hermione?

"Go away, Malfoy," Harry heard Hermione's voice, quivery and choked.

Without giving it a second thought, Harry darted forward and grabbed the figure that was crouching over Hermione's bed. By now, he was able to make out Malfoy's silver hair at the edge of that figure. He hurled Malfoy well into the opposite wall, and had his wand ready in his hand, pointing it steadily at Malfoy.

Hermione seemed to have recovered very quickly. "Don't do it, Harry!" she called with an urgent edge to her voice. "It's not what you think."

"Where you consenting to him being in your bed?" asked Harry. His tone indicated that he was very sure about her answer.

"No, but –"

"Than it's exactly what I think," Harry ruled. He raised his wand, a curse starting to form on his lips. He had decided to hit Malfoy with an extremely vicious skin-bubbles hex.

Hermione grabbed his wand hand from behind. "Don't do it, please."

Malfoy was just then able to draw a first breath after having it blown out of him when he hit the wall. With the breath, he drew his wand, and directed it at Harry. "_Expelliarmus_," he coughed out.

Harry was so busy fighting over his wand with Hermione that he didn't even notice Malfoy's spell. He did fell a strong tug at his wand that didn't seem to have been the product of Hermione's pulls, but she pulled in every direction, so he might have been wrong.

Finally, Harry was able to release his wand from Hermione's hands. With one great swing, he sent her toppling to the floor with empty hands. He witnessed Malfoy looking strangely at his wand, but nevertheless, keeping it pointing at him. It was obvious that Malfoy, although confused, was about to lash a curse at him. Harry wouldn't give him the chance. He began mumbling the words of a counter-curse, and was barely able to hold it back when Hermione placed herself in front of him.

"Move over, Hermione," Harry grumbled.

"No."

"What's going on in here?" came Ron's voice from the door.

Only then, Harry noticed that Hermione had her wand in her hand and she, too, was pointing it at him. Malfoy rose slowly from the floor, and took her side. He was standing very close to her, his upper arm brushing her shoulder. They were wearing matching masks of determination.

"I thought that Malfoy was attacking Hermione, but I was wrong," Harry spat in answer to Ron's question. "She's with him. I should have realised it yesterday. Malfoy can't convert, it's Hermione who's changed sides." All the while he was talking, he didn't take his eyes of the pair in front of him.

"It's the mistletoe curse," mumbled Ron.

"You're going too far," Draco stated coldly. He took a step forward, half hiding Hermione behind him. Then Ron's whisper sank in. "What mistletoe curse?"

"The one from Potions class," whined Ron. "I didn't think it would work so fast." Ron shook his head sadly.

"But I saw Potter give Hermione his feeble excuse for a kiss," insisted Draco. The floating image of that moment made his brain steam. He felt now, as he had then, the rabid heat of jealousy. He steadied his wand, making it more obvious where it was pointing.

"It was too late," Ron continued his wail. "He had the mistletoe down before he did." He shook his head again, and looked down, unwilling to watch one of his best friends kill the other. "I knew it was too late. I hoped -" he trailed off.

"Oh," said Draco. "_stupefy_".

Although Harry had anticipated some move on Malfoy's side, he was still caught by surprise by the stunning spell. He didn't form a counter-curse in time, and barely managed to deflect it with his wand. Still, he tossed it back at him, sending Malfoy hard into the wall for the second time in a few-minutes interlude. Oddly, Malfoy wasn't completely stunned, but he was rendered breathless and completely out of action.

Hermione screamed and darted at Harry, casting a Bluebell Flame at him. She had become quite good with it, and although Harry was able to ward off most of the wide Bluebell, the hem of his cloak caught on fire. He put it off with a thrash of his hand, and looked up at Hermione, not as much enraged as deeply offended. She was standing close to him, examining the result of her handiwork. Her wand was pointing at his neck. Harry rose slowly to his full height, moving his gaze from Hermione's wand, staring deep into her eyes. He didn't recognise the girl who started back at him. There was an unfamiliar furious spark deep in her earthly brown eyes.

Without taking his eyes off Hermione, Harry shifted his posture a little, so it would be clear he was talking to Ron. "Are you sure about that curse?"

Ron released a tiny whimper that sounded frighteningly close to a 'yes'.

Harry's shoulders slumped, and he let his wand drop to the floor. It landed with a sharp 'clink' that sounded too metallic for a wooden wand on a stone floor. "I'm not going to kill you, Hermione." He lowered his eyes to his wand on the floor. "Get it over with."

"Get what over with?" asked Hermione, not lowering her own wand.

"The killing thing. You heard Ron. This won't be over until you kill me. So just do it."

"That's stupid, Harry. None of us has to kill the other."

"You just sent a potentially deadly curse at me, and I was about to do the same. I don't want to end up killing you, and let's face it -" he looked up at her again, and noticed that her wand was still pointing at his neck. "If you don't grab this opportunity, judging by what happened to Cho, that's the more likely option."

Hermione's face screwed up in disbelief. "You don't fool me, Harry. I've seen you pull this helpless act before. You're just waiting for me to fall sobbing into your lap, and than you'll hit me like you did Draco." She gave Malfoy's collapsed figure a quick gaze before looking at Harry again. Her eyes were welling up with tears. "I know now why you tried to lie to me after taking the Veritaserum."

Harry closed his eyes. He felt a cloud of numbness sinking on him. His heart was racing rapidly. This was all Malfoy's fault. If he hadn't asked that question, if he hadn't made Harry realise h loved Hermione, none of this would happen. The rage that he had missed before, was building up inside the haze that had his thoughts. Through it, he heard Hermione's far-away voice: "_stupefy_".

Harry's legs had surrendered to his weight, and he fell to the floor. He expected darkness to envelope him, but it never came. After giving it enough time, and finally accepting that it wasn't coming, Harry opened his eyes. He was sitting on the floor. Malfoy still lay by the opposite wall, Ron was still standing by the door, but he was whiter than ever. His mouth and eyes were open to equal saucer size. Very close to him was Hermione. She was lying on the floor, as still as the stone on which she fell.

aaaaaaaaaa

A/N:

To your unasked question: Yes, for now, every time Draco gets to kiss Hermione, he also gets hit hard and smart. I don't like the guy. If he really proves he's changed, I'll reconsider.

On the up side - The next chapter is already written and being beta-read at this very moment. On the down side - It ends with a much more horrible cliffhanger, and it will take some time before #8 is ready...

Read? Review!

Thanks to:

First and foremost, the wonderful, patient, caring beta-readers who gave meaning to my writing: **Jeralyn**, who has a star cameo in ASA. **Dinah**, who neglected her math for me. Tsk, tsk, tsk. **Blue Butterfly** – happy Chinese new year! **Isabelle Centeno**, **Heath** and **fluffy** – who's comments have affected this chapter to great extent.

**Ash Night**: for systematically reviewing all the chapters and for making me laugh. **  
Dagan**: So sweet of you to come back to review the rest. Tsk, tsk. Reviewed #5 twice, very naughty. :) I hope I didn't kill you with the Draco bit here. There's more to come. I guess the system you talked about is the Authoralert? If you want, mail me privately, and I'll add you to my 'notice when submit' list. Oh, and I don't think Lucius has any plans for Hermione. He just lets Draco play with her for a while. **  
hermoninny malfoy**: your request was well considered. I hope this and the next part will make you happy. :) **  
DemonChild**: It does sound like you have a few ideas for great fics. Go write! **  
Lizzy/Tygrestick, sarah**: Thanks! Now that I have great beta-readers, I will write more. **  
Hermione Granger Weasley**: I'm glad you liked Lee/Ginny. I had my doubts about this pairing, but I'm growing fond of them. **  
Elyssa**: Your request has been registered. Hope you had some fun in this chapter. :) **  
Winnie Packard**: blushing scarlet Er... **  
Mackenzie McKinnon**: checking if there is deeper red than scarlet Thanks! **  
hermioneatkcom**: Thanks for taking my A/N seriously. I really appreciate it. You call 'with his plans for Hermione' a cliffhanger? What about poor Sirius? You didn't even know if he's alive! Well, it is obvious where your heart is. Hope you had some fun with this chapter. :) And nope. I don't mention the names just to be polite. I really do appreciate the reviewers effort. Ooh, just saw the review you put on the previous chapter. Yey! jumps up and down, can't blush any deeper I've got me a fan! **  
Jodie**: Grrrrr... You're spoiling me. **  
LunaLuv**: Oh, putting in reviews for previous parts. Thanks! Well, I think Canon Cho is sweet, and no, I don't intend to kill her, or make her basically evil. She might be turned evil, though... I'm still contemplating over the m/m slash thing. I don't think any of the major characters will turn out gay. I just have too big a crush on them, and can't take them out of my meat market :) Maybe some of the minor characters. **  
Kim**: Thanks! I don't know if it's H/H, but you can put in a vote! **  
GinnyPotter**: Thank you, thank you! Well, we've already talked about everything... just wanted to use the chance to thank you again. If there is one single reason this chapter was written, it's you. And I've arranged a little surprise for you in the next chapter. :) **  
Sanna**: First of, I love you! Now – you're absolutely right about ton rooting for any couple here hint I was just kidding about the fast writing thing. I did not have proofreaders, and it was horrible shudders. Now I have 6(!) who share the work. There aren't two Death Eaters in the school, there are a lot more! See you in egroups. **  
Burrow Gurl**: It's so nice to see you so immersed in the story! Sweet. Thanks! And thanks for reviewing previous chapters too! **  
Mwalimu**: Oh, so good to see you. Just saw you in PoU waves hello I immediately put all the changes you suggested, and anxiously await more! It's also very nice to know which are your favourite parts, and which are... not. **  
Cassandra Claire**: you do realise I'm writing this at 4am, because I was reading DS11 until now... thanks! Oh, and thanks for the review as well vbg. There are some things is do intentionally the opposite way than others, like the whole Draco/Lucius relationship. Got myself beta-readers, and I'll write on... **  
Crystal Music**: Hermione does not fall in love with Draco. At least not yet. But you do realise that you are way outnumbered by the D/H fans? **  
ChowMeinGurL**: I'm deeply offended g. "nice" Malfoy? He isn't nice. He's a Death Eater for crying out loud! Oh, all right, been in that argument with Cassie and already lost shamefully. But don't say I haven't tried. :) **  
Alysa**: thanks! Your vote has been registered. **  
Mina**: Ohh! With your vote, the balance is leaning a bit more towards H/H. I'm sorry, I'm not going to kill Ron anytime soon. He might accidentally get himself killed, though evil grin your 'blabbering' made me laugh, thanks! Oh, and I hope your test went well. I'll seriously consider putting you as a cameo, as Voldie's new wife g **  
Becky**: Thanks for reviewing previous parts as well! I hope this chapter is more to your shipper's incline. **  
galpal**: well, the balance shifts again with your D/H vote! Now that I have beta-readers I will write more. :) **  
Banana Republic**: thanks! Well, Krum was left in Hogwarts while the rest of the gang is off, so not much more of him in the near future, although I do like him. Lucius' way of putting things has nothing to do with 'real' life. I'll write your vote to H/H. you can call this series a lot of things, but I don't think 'genuine' is one of them :)

37


	7. Indecision

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 7**_

_Indecision_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Dark-Mark Lee D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Someone important might die in this chapter. And someone else is getting a haircut. That's all I'm saying.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
You already know everything is JK's. This chapter also has a reference to 'The Little Prince' by Saint-X, but you're sure to recognise that one. Oh, And there's also a very obvious reference to 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
**Warning:** If you think I left you with a bad cliffhanger the last time, think again. This time is _much, much_ worse. And this time I don't have the next chapter ready, so it might take some time for it to be resolved. You have been warned.

aaaaaaaaaa

Very close to him was Hermione. She was lying on the floor, as still as the stone on which she fell. 

aaaaaaaaaa

A medium-sized grey wolf stood in front of a stone gargoyle and looked impatiently out the window. After what seemed like a very long wait, the last rays of the lunar satellite disappeared beyond the edge of the earth. The wolf's face became shorter. His facial and body hair began thinning, and was finally mostly gone. Where the wolf had stood, now sat a man in a shabby travelling cloak, cramping with what appeared to be agonizing pain. 

Remus took a deep breath and stood up. He mumbled the password to the gargoyle, and was forced to grin, despite the need to be sick. Dumbledore had a unique taste. Cactus Toffee indeed. 

Dumbledore was waiting for him by his desk. He wore a very worried expression, which deepened as Remus entered the round office. All the past headmasters and headmistresses fixed Remus with stern looks, most of the men were absently playing with their beards, and more disturbingly, so were some of the women. 

"I was expecting you," Dumbledore said quietly. "Although I hoped you would be someone else." 

"Sirius?" 

Dumbledore nodded his head very slightly, but it was enough to make the answer very clear. Yes, he had been hoping to see Sirius. 

"What was their mission?" 

"Have you seen yesterday's paper?" Dumbledore unexpectedly changed the subject. 

"What's that got to do with where they are?" 

"So I take it that you haven't." Dumbledore produced a copy of the Daily Prophet and spread it in front of Remus, front page up. Remus looked at him incredulously, and then lowered his eyes to the paper. The letters of the headline glowered at him: "_IS THE BOY WHO LIVED A DEATH EATER?_" He raised his eyes again, and gaped at Dumbledore. When he saw no motion to explain from the headmaster's side, he turned to read the entire article. His mouth was open even wider when he finished. 

Remus wanted to ask what this was about, but he was rendered speechless. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, suddenly feeling the effect of the sleepless night. 

"Is he really -" he managed to stammer. 

"Oh no," Dumbledore offered him a comforting smile. "But this article about Harry managed to confuse a lot of people, including the boy himself." Dumbledore examined Remus, watching his words wipe the troubled expression off his face. "Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus were supposed to release Ms. Skeeter from Voldemort's clutches, and to prevent the publication of this article." The smile Dumbledore offered Remus was long gone. "I wish they had succeeded." 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Is she dead?" 

"I don't know. She doesn't look too good." 

Ron approached Hermione, while both Draco and Harry struggled to their feet. They both gave up at about the same time, and just rolled along the flagstones until they had reached her. 

Ron was the first to release a sigh of relief. "She's breathing," he announced. "_enervate_!" The expression on his face indicated that he might burst into a spontaneous little dance. 

Harry allowed his head to drop beside Hermione's motionless figure. Draco placed his hand on the stone floor, and gently rested his head on it. A few minutes had passed before a slight movement made both boys sit bolt upright and then crouch over Hermione. There was a short struggle, and when it ended, Ron found himself sitting by Hermione's head, completely hidden from her view. 

The first thing Hermione saw when she opened her eyes was Harry's face. She screamed and flinched away from him. Someone caught her shrinking body with strong but gentle hands. She turned, and saw Draco's face. Her heart gave a little leap, and she screamed. 

Both boys were turned aback by her reaction, leaving her whole clear for Ron. Ron didn't waste one second. He circled her and found her side. An instant later, she was held in his arms, and he was gently rocking her. 

"Ron," was the first word Hermione said. 

"I'm here," said Ron. He felt that his chest was about to blast with the emotions it held for her. 

"Can you not swing?" 

Ron's face fell. He wanted to make things perfect for her, and now he blew it. He stopped moving at once, the sharp change sending a jolt through Hermione's exhausted body. Hermione gritted her teeth, but a tiny, agonised breath escaped her lips. 

Draco came round quickly. "Let her go, Weasley," he said in a harsh tone. "Can't you see you're hurting her?" 

The very fact that Malfoy was the one talking made Ron want to protest. He looked at Hermione, seeking approval, but her tortured eyes told him differently. 

"Here, I'll help you lift her back to bed," volunteered Harry. As Ron held Hermione's upper-body, Harry grabbed her legs, and tried to heave them off the floor, but Hermione kicked him with a strength he hadn't suspected she possessed. 

"Ouch." Harry shook his reddening hand. "What did you do that for?" 

"Don't touch me," hissed Hermione. It was unbelievable she could produce such a menacing tone with such a feeble voice. "Don't even get near me. What happened? What did you use against me anyway?" 

"I didn't use anything," said Harry with feeling, as he watched Draco shake his palm after being kicked as well. "I just stood there like a convict on the death row, waiting for you to - to -" Harry didn't want to sound over-dramatic and say 'kill me', but that exactly what he was doing. 

"All I did was try to stun you. You must have deflected the curse somehow." 

"How could I?" shouted Harry, resenting the implication. "I didn't have my wand. It was on the floor, you saw it!" 

"The spell did bounce off you," contributed Ron to Harry's great chagrin. "You deflected it just like you deflected Malfoy's spell." He picked up Hermione without the help of the others, and placed her on the bed. Then, he covered her with a thick duvet and fastened the edges of the blanket around her. Hermione cuddled in the bed, looking warm and quite comfortable. 

"I had my wand with Malfoy. I meant to set the spell back at him. I didn't do it with Hermione. I'll take Veritaserum on that." 

"Yeah, we've seen what the Veritaserum is worth in your case," sneered Draco. "It's just like the Imperius Curse. Has no effect on you." 

Hermione sat bolt upright in the bed. 

"Shhh," Ron tried to calm her. He tried to push her gently back into a resting position, but she objected. 

"No," she said. "Draco, you've just given me an idea of what's going on." She turned her face to Harry. This was the first time he saw softness in the way she looked at him since the incident with the Truth Potion. His heart trembled with joy. "Harry, do you remember the fake wand?" 

"Yes," said Harry. "But I don't have it either. And I don't think I could use it on you anyway." 

"Actually, you could," said Hermione. Before Harry could object, she added: "But I don't think you would have." This statement won her three very confused stares. 

"Harry, I think you have a very high MQ," she said in a victorious tone of someone who had just conquered the world's most complicated riddle. 

"Oh," said Ron, his eyes lit up with understanding. 

"Oh," muttered Draco with a disgruntled tone. 

"A what?" asked Harry, who felt pressure starting to form in his temples. 

"MQ - Magical Quotient," Hermione said like she was reading out of a book. "It measures how strong a wizard or a witch you potentially are." 

"Oh," said Harry, massaging his temples. That's just what he needed now. Another thing to single him out from the rest of the wizarding community. The look on Malfoy's face confirmed his suspicion. This was almost as bad as the time he'd learned he was a parselmouth. And that time was Malfoy's fault as well. He felt his rage surging. "What exactly does that mean?" he asked, looking back at Hermione. 

"Everyone has an MQ," explained Hermione, sounding more and more like Professor Binns. "Any score above fifteen is considered magical. To be able to use a wand to do magic, you need a score of over forty-five. You get a letter from Hogwarts if you have forty-five or above." 

"Your friend Neville probably has forty-five," Draco inserted viciously. 

Hermione glared at him, and went on. "Up to seventy, it is considered a mild magical ability. Seventy to ninety is moderate magical ability. Ninety to one hundred and ten is what most wizards and witches have. Anyone who scores above that is considered gifted to some level." 

"Is that all?" asked Harry. The pressure in his head was beginning to ebb down. 

"Not exactly," said Ron, who had caught up with Hermione's train of thought. "If your score is above one hundred and forty, you are likely to be able to do some basic magic without a wand." 

"Is that considered Dark Art?" Harry's face was a mask of concern. 

"Not really." Draco calmed him down. "But it is said that You-Know-Who has an MQ of one-hundred and sixty five." Apparently, alleviating Harry's fears was not what Draco had in mind. 

"Wow," breathed Harry. Facing Voldemort seemed more frightening than ever before. 

"Well, so does Dumbledore." Hermione tried to undo Draco's damage. 

Harry sat on the edge of her bed. Hermione drew her legs to her chest, but said nothing. "That's too much information for me," he said finally. He could see the pre-dawn light making the forest clearing outside the window glow. "I don't think any of us is getting back to sleep. Maybe we should get a move on." He sprang off the bed, and then realized something. "Malfoy, where are we going, anyway?" 

"I'll have to check that," Draco said cryptically and immediately left the room. Ron and Harry followed suit, and Hermione tagged along with them. 

Draco led the way into the main communications chamber. He went to the pile of jars, and scanned them critically. 

"What are you looking for?" asked Ron, looking at the identical jars with him. 

"Don't disturb me, Weasley," Draco hushed him rudely. After a while, he pulled a jar out of the pile. Magically, the pile did not collapse. "This one," he said. "The one that says 'locator floo'." 

"That one doesn't say anything," Ron scowled. "None of them do." 

"You can't see it," mocked Draco, "but I bet your Death Eater friend can." 

"Don't call me that," Harry shouted. His anger was not because of Draco's snide remark, but mainly due to the fact that he could, in fact, see some sort of markings on the jars. It wasn't tangible writing, but it didn't feel like a good sign at all. 

Ignoring Harry's complaint, Draco took the jar with him and started walking very slowly along one of the flame-covered walls. 

"Are you looking for the one that says 'Goyle'?" Hermione couldn't repress her curiosity. 

"Don't be silly." Draco's tone was much softer when he spoke to her. "There are no names on the flames. Only codes." He paused and kneeled in front of one of the flames, located on the second shelf from the floor. "Luckily, I happen to know Goyle's code." He took a pinch of powder out of the jar and before any of the terror-stricken others present could stop him, he tossed it into the flame. 

The green flame flared bright silver for a second, and then, puffing out a little foul smelling cloud, shifted its haze, and featured a large bedroom. It was furnished luxuriously, with antique chests, a crystal chandelier, a huge four-poster bed and small Persian rugs at the foot of the bed. A man was sleeping alone in the bed, his large stomach rising and sinking rhythmically. 

"Is that the man who attacked you?" Hermione asked, looking eagerly at Harry. 

Harry observed the man on the bed intently. His face was mostly hidden in his pillow. "Could be," he said without much conviction. "I can't really tell." The man moaned in his sleep, and turned to the other side, like something was disturbing him. Harry gasped and retreated from the flame. "It's him," he said weakly. 

"Good," said Draco. He enjoyed seeing Harry so frightened and enjoyed even more the fact that Hermione had seen him like this as well. He tossed some more powder into the image, and it started zooming out rapidly, giving the watchers a feeling they were flying backwards on a speeding broom. 

It showed the entire bedroom, then it passed through a wall. For a moment, the wall filled the entire image, but it quickly turned into a wide hall with hanging torches and some pictures they had no time to recognize, because the view had already passed through the opposite wall. It kept moving, slowing down a bit, until it finally stopped, featuring a large manor with wide fields and a single yellowing stone mansion in the middle. 

"I know where that is," whispered Draco. "And it's not good." 

"Why not?" Ron asked the question although he didn't really care to hear the answer. 

"He Who Must Not Be Named uses that house often." 

"Well, we'll just have to wait for him to be out," said Harry, his chin set in obstinacy. 

"I guess so." Draco's voice still sounded a bit dejected, but his chin was moved to match Harry's. "It's very far away, though. We're going to have to use our brooms to get there." 

"Brooms?" asked Ron and Hermione together. The shared the same alarmed tone. 

"You did bring brooms, didn't you?" Harry tried, although he already knew the answer. Ron and Hermione said nothing. 

"Unbelievable," muttered Draco. He should have guessed that Weasley wouldn't bring a broom. He probably couldn't afford one anyway, but Hermione was a smart witch, she should have thought of bringing one with her. Then he thought about it. Hermione didn't much care for broom flying. "All right, here's what we're going to do," he offered eventually. "Each broom can easily carry two people. It won't be much good for racing, but it will have to do." 

"Fine," agreed Hermione reluctantly. She wasn't enthusiastic about riding a broom, but if that what it would take to help Harry, then she'd do it. "Meet you outside in ten minutes." She went back to her room to pack her things, and saw the others do the same. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Ginny stood outside the castle, watching the Giant Squid do his morning exercise. It was freezing at this time of dawn. She stomped her feet in the snow, trying to get herself to warm up a bit. 

"Oh, I thought you'd wait for me inside." He quickly wrapped her in his thick travelling cloak. 

Ginny cuddled in the cloak, eagerly accepting the embrace that came with it. "Lee, I couldn't wait," she said sheepishly. 

They kissed and headed for the castle, sharing Lee's cloak. Their progress was considerably slow, as they stopped from time to time, either to kiss, or to recover from one of them stepping on the other one's foot. The latter didn't really count, as they used the recesses to do the former, easily dismissing the pain with their attention on the kiss. 

By the time they reached the steps to the castle door, it was already time for breakfast. Ginny had decided to skip the meal, planning on grabbing some toast on the way to History of Magic. That would win her a few more minutes with Lee. 

An owl swooped by their heads, and landed at their feet in a sorry heap of parchment and feathers. 

"Errol?" asked Ginny, hesitantly. It was unlikely that her parents would send that retired owl. Unless - unless something was terribly wrong. She picked the owl up gently, and brushed the snow away, along with some of his feathers. It was shivering from the cold. Ginny held him close to her, to give him some of her warmth, and ascended the stairs very quickly. It was Errol, all right. 

"Lee, can you read the letter for me?" she asked, as Lee had already picked the parchment and went after her. Both her hands were busy cuddling poor Errol. 

"Sure," said Lee, and started reading: "Dear Ginny, We're sending Errol because we're-" Lee had stopped his loud read-out, and scanned the rest of the letter mutely. 

"What is it?" Ginny asked impatiently. 

"It's er-" Lee stammered. "Maybe I should hold Errol." He reached for the trembling bird, and gave her the letter instead. Ginny was getting uneasy by all the signs, including Lee's terribly white face. She gave him the owl, and started reading. 

_Dear Ginny _

_We're sending Errol because we're very worried about Ron, and we don't want to wait for another owl to arrive. We sent him a letter yesterday, asking him to contact us, and he hasn't returned our owl. _

_We are concerned for his safety, especially because of the new circumstances that have arisen, and his dormitory arrangements. _

_Please find him, and let us know he's all right. _

_Love, Mum and Dad._

"My mum lets herself be influenced by what that Skeeter woman is writing." Ginny shook her head with disapproval. "Let's go to the Great Hall and feed Errol." She took the owl back in her hands. "We might as well get some breakfast, too." 

Lee nodded in agreement. She knew her parents better than him, although he had to admit that the letter was, at the least, disturbing. 

Ginny busied herself feeding Errol, while Lee looked around the Gryffindor table, his concern growing steadily with each moment. "Ginny?" he tried eventually. Ginny took her eyes off the stuffed owl and gave him her attention. "Shouldn't Ron be here by now?" 

The possibility that something might have actually happened to Ron sank on Ginny like a surprise Potions Quiz. She paled, and imitated Lee's search. "Harry isn't here either," she said. "Come to think of it, I can't see Hermione anywhere -" She racked her brain to remember the last time she has seen her. It was yesterday at lunch. She walked hastily to Dean, who seemed to be enjoying his breakfast more than normal. 

"Dean, have you seen Ron or Harry?" she asked. 

"No," Dean answered. "They weren't there this morning when I woke up, and they went to bed after I was already asleep, too." He smiled impishly. "I guess they're up to something again." 

Dean's unconcern was not infectious. Ginny was by now extremely anxious. "Lee, they might be in horrible danger. We must find them." She tugged on his sleeve. 

"Not we, Ginny." Lee pushed her tenderly. "You're not even a fully-grown witch. You stay right here, and I'll go search for them. I'm sure they're just stuck somewhere with some trick that backfired." He made an effort to look like he knew what he was talking about. 

"There's no way I'm letting you go alone." 

"Well, my first stop would be in Dumbledore's office. Do you really want to tell him that you're going to miss classes? And on your OWL's year? You might get yourself expelled." he looked at her unconvinced expression. It was time to be a bit cruel for her own safety. "Ginny," he said softly, "You'll only get in my way." 

Ginny was a bit offended at first, but then realized what he was doing. "I see right through your trick, Lee." Still, there was a point in what he said. He was, although young, a fully trained wizard, while she was - not. "All right," she eventually acceded. She sank back into her chair, and started patting Errol in long, distracted strokes. "Just be careful. Please." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry mounted his broom, his pack on his back. He saw Draco do the same. "Come on, Hermione," he called her as she came out of the house, carrying her pack and slightly limping. 

"Uh ah." Draco shook his head furiously. "I'm not riding with Weasley. Forget about it." 

"Well, you have to," said Hermione. She wasn't very keen on riding with Harry after yesterday's events, but, "There is no way I'm riding with you," she announced to Draco. 

"What? After what we've been through together, you're still afraid I'm going to throw you off the broom?" 

"No. I'm actually more afraid I'll want to jump off," retorted Hermione. 

Draco felt the air leave him like he'd been hit in the stomach. "You don't have much choice," he said, his face gaining its familiar ice-cold expression. "Weasley and I are not about to ride on the same broom." 

"Fine," said Hermione. "Then you'll ride with Harry." 

"What?" both boys were shuddered. They lapsed into ardent protests, both knowing that it was a lost cause. Finally, their boisterous babble abated, and they just looked at each other with disgust. 

"Give them your broom," commanded Draco. Harry opened his mouth to retort, but smartly decided against it. He just went to Ron, and deposited his Firebolt in his hands. He watched with overflowing envy as Hermione mounted the broom behind Ron, holding on firmly to his waist. She leaned her head against his back, closed her eyes, and waited. Her expression very much resembled that of a lamb knowing it was about to become shish-kebab. 

"Don't even dream about holding me that way," Draco drawled at Harry. 

"I wouldn't worry," Harry spat back. 

Since this was Draco's broom, it was obvious that he would take the lead. It was also more sensible, as he was the only one who knew which way they were headed. As they climbed above the forest trees, Harry made his best effort to hold only to the broom, but his hand slid from time to time, sending waves of chill through his chest and spine with each time he touched Draco. He could sense Draco's back stiffing with each such slip. 

Harry made an effort not to look back at Ron and Hermione. The pinch he felt in his chest by merely thinking about them was too painful. His resolution not to look back held on no more than a few minutes. He cast his eyes over his shoulder, searching for the other pair on a broom. 

"Malfoy, stop," he shouted over the whistle of the wind. "Ron and Hermione aren't behind us." 

Draco turned the broom around so abruptly, that Harry slid fully forward, smacking into Draco's back. For a second, they were both wrapped in an isolating sphere, identical to the one that surrounded them when Draco first touched Harry's Dark Mark with his own. This made Draco lose control over the broom. Luckily the sphere was shattered before they hit the ground. They jumped off the broom the instant it was close enough to the ground, not saying a word to each other. One pair of warm emerald green eyes and one pair of icy steel grey eyes scanned the skies silently. After what seemed like eternity, the other broom appeared in the horizon. It took another long minute before it landed by their side. 

Harry bit his lower lip when he saw that Hermione was still holding on to Ron, long after their legs had touched the ground. She was ashen-faced and looked like she was about to be sick. 

"Where were you gone to?" Ron asked angrily, not rising as to not disturb Hermione. 

"We didn't realise we'd lost you," Harry said genuinely. "I'm sorry." 

"We were going as fast as this Firebolt could take us. This was the fastest I've ever flown." Ron was speaking enthusiastically now. "But still, we couldn't catch up with you." 

"This is the same model," said Draco. "So I guess the difference is in the maintenance. I take good care of my broom." 

"I take good care of my broom too," raged Harry. "It is probably in better condition than yours. Ron is probably just not used to its little antics." 

"Well, my broom doesn't have any _little antics_," mocked Draco. 

"All right then, give them _your_ broom." 

Draco hesitated for a second, and then surrendered his broom to Ron. After all, he set himself up for this. Ron took Draco's broom, and gently slid it beside Harry's. Once it was settled in place, he pulled Harry's broom out. Doing this, he was able to switch the brooms without swaying Hermione too badly. 

"Can we go?" asked Draco impatiently. He feared that what they saw in the communications centre would no longer be relevant if they took too much time to get there. "We still have a long way to go." 

Hermione nodded feebly, closing her eyes as if yielding in front of a horrible destiny. 

Both brooms left the ground at once. Both cut through the crisp morning air together, but one of them rose above the treetops before the other. Harry recognised the gap between the brooms much quicker this time, and impelled Draco to stop. 

The two boys hovered just over the top branches of the trees. Harry was almost compelled to touch them, when the other two stopped beside them. 

"What's going on?" asked Draco. "You can't blame it on the broom this time. This is a top brand broom you've got there." He gestured with his head towards his own broom on which the other two were riding. 

"Maybe it's a weight thing," suggested Harry. 

This remark finally made Hermione speak, although her voice sounded weak, and she didn't bother to open her eyes as she spoke. "There is no way you and Draco weigh less than me and Ron." She remembered the heavy book in her pack, but it couldn't make that much of a difference. "No way," she repeated. 

"Maybe the brooms are just not used to you," Harry said. 

"Don't be stupid," Draco retorted. "Brooms don't _get used_ to riders. They're not horses. They don't think." 

"Then what? It can't be that both brooms malfunction when Ron is steering them, and work well when we use them." 

"I think I know what it is." Hermione raised her head, and opened her eyes with some caution. She was relieved to find that the world wasn't spinning as fast as she thought it would. "I think it has to do with your MQ, Harry." 

"Will you stop with that MQ thing?" Harry said, feeling extremely annoyed. 

"That could explain why the broom you're on goes faster. The rider's MQ can affect the broom." Ron frowned. "This could also be the reason why you're such a good Seeker." 

"Hey, me being a good Seeker has nothing to do with this stupid MQ. And there are two of us on the broom. This could be Malfoy's fault." 

"How could this be Draco's fault?" countered Hermione. "This requires a really high score." 

Draco made an offended face. "I happen to have an MQ of one-hundred and fifty two." 

"Yeah, right," mocked Ron. 

"I'm serious," insisted Draco. "My dad had me tested when I was five. He arranged an official Ministry test for me." 

"Your Death Eater father? He probably terrorized the examiner into giving you a high score." 

"Not true!" 

"So you can do Wandless magic? Let's see some." Ron fixed Malfoy a challenging glare. 

"You know that the MQ only marks the potential of the wizard when he comes of age," said Draco defensively. "That'll be in almost two years." 

"So you can't," jeered Ron. 

"Actually, I've never tried," drawled Draco, regaining his confidence. "I'm sure that under optimal conditions, I could." 

"I dare you to try." 

"This isn't exactly optimal conditions for a first attempt," Draco retreated. 

"Then take an MQ test. I'm sure Hermione can conjure a reasonable test. I want to see you score over a hundred and fifty." 

"I would," Draco succumbed to the challenge, forgetting their rush. "But only if you all take the test as well." 

"Agreed," said Ron eagerly. 

"Wait a minute!" said Harry, who kept out of the argument until now. "Don't say 'yes' for me. I won't do it." 

"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron implored. "Don't you want to expose Malfoy's lie? Don't you want to see him humiliated?" 

"Not if I humiliate myself in the process." 

"You'll do just fine," Hermione reassured him. "And it will be very interesting. Please?" 

Harry couldn't resist the pleading tone in her voice. He nodded his head reluctantly. If he had known that agreeing to the test would mean that She and Malfoy would sit together for long minutes, crouched over a piece of parchment (which Hermione naturally brought with her) and making complicated calculations, he might have reconsidered. The two were working together from the second the brooms landed in a nearby clearing they've found. Seeing them together made Harry want to beat up Malfoy again, but he restrained himself. Finally, they were done. 

"All right," said Hermione, stretching her back after bending over the calculations for too long. "We've calculated the weight appropriate for each of us according to our dates of birth." 

"What do you mean? What weight?" Harry asked. 

"The test is simple," explained Hermione. "You will have to lift a certain weight using only your wand. The longer you hold it suspended, the higher you score is. Ten seconds are worth a round one hundred. Eleven is a hundred and ten, and nine seconds is ninety." 

"That's all?" said Harry, a tad surprised. That sounded almost too easy. "How much would I have to lift?" 

Hermione checked her notes. "I think - forty two." She ran her finger over the piece of parchment. "Yes, forty two hundred Kilos." 

Harry's face paled. He remembered failing to lift the Pensieve for very long, and that was an object he could lift by sheer muscle power. That wasn't good. Concentrating on the mental image of Hermione's deeply disappointed face, Harry missed the preparations for Draco's test. Draco was to go first, and he and Hermione had already prepared the right weight for him, separating a large chunk of a fallen tree trunk, and conjuring a time-measuring spell. 

Draco pointed his wand towards the tree trunk. The tension was clearly visible on his face. Fear that his father actually did falsify that test started penetrating his heart, weighing it down to the pit of his stomach, where it remained pulsing heavily. He pointed his wand to the log, and waited. 

"Ready when you are," said Hermione after checking the time-measuring spell one last time. 

Draco took a deep breath, steadied his wand, and stopped dead on the stop. Several blurred forms started to appear behind the ready log. As Draco stared at them, they took the shape of no less than a dozen wizards dressed in jet-black robes and wearing masks. Draco tightened his grip around his wand and watched them. 

Harry was standing very close to Malfoy when he was about to start the test. Ron and Hermione were close by, too, but he was especially interested in watching Draco's every move. He had no intention of shamefully failing in front of Hermione. He saw the Death Eaters apparate just when Malfoy was about to begin his test. His hand immediately went to his wand, while his eyes wandered around, detecting more Death Eaters apparating all over the clearing. As is natural when facing mortal danger, the four children squeezed together. 

All Death Eaters but one kept their initial positions. The one that moved advanced on them with cat-like stalking. "Most satisfactory," he said when he was close enough for them to hear him. His voice sounded oddly familiar to Harry. 

Draco had had four hours during the previous night to wonder what he would do if forced to choose between the Dark side and the object of his love. Four hours, and he had come to no conclusion. He couldn't care less about what happened to Weasley and Potter, but Hermione - he had spent the entire four hours pouting over her. 

Now that Draco was faced with that choice a lot sooner than he had expected, his mind was suddenly very clear. No debate, no deliberation. He knew exactly to which side he belonged. "Hello, Father," he said, and stepped beside the masked man. His wand pointed unswervingly at the other three. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"So, where is that Skeeter woman being held?" Remus asked anxiously. 

"We assumed she was at her house. Considering that our agents failed to return, that assumption might have been correct." 

"All right." Remus rose to his feet, offering Dumbledore a resolute facade. 

Dumbledore looked like he wanted to protest, but reconsidered. "I know Sirius regretted very much leaving you behind," he said. 

"He is going to regret it much more once I find him," replied Remus. 

A knock on the office door interrupted Dumbledore's smile at Remus' optimism. "Enter," he called. 

The door opened to reveal a somewhat perplexed Lee. 

"Come in, young Mr. Jordan. What can I do for you?" 

Lee looked from Dumbledore to Remus, not sure if he could talk around him. Remus showed no sign of leaving the office. Quite the contrary, he looked at Lee with curious black eyes, waiting to hear what he had to say. After some more hesitation, and a few reassuring looks from Dumbledore, Lee decided that it was safe. 

"I'm here about Ron Weasley," he said, and then hurried to add "and Hermione Granger and Harry Potter." 

"What about them?" asked Dumbledore with a worried frown. 

"They seem to be missing." 

Dumbledore's advanced age appeared to have landed on him all at once. He leaned forward in his chair and looked like he was searching for something in his desk drawers. Finally, he straightened up again. "So it would seem," he said in a pensive tone. "And so is Draco Malfoy," he added. 

"Do you think he could be responsible for their disappearance?" asked Lee. What he'd learned in the years he'd been in school with Malfoy made him naturally suspicious of the Slytherin boy. 

"No, I suspect it has to do with yesterday's front page of the Daily Prophet. Have you seen it?" Dumbledore pushed the paper towards Lee. 

"I'm afraid I have." Lee paused to think he promised Ginny he would try to look for Ron, but he had no idea where to begin. "Is there going to be a search for them?" he asked. "Because if there is, I'd like to take part in it." 

"There will be no search. Not in that sense, anyway." Dumbledore hurried to add, seeing Lee's face fall. "Remus here was just about to leave for Rita Skeeter's house, to see if he can find, er, anything interesting there." 

"Good," said Lee. "Then I'll come with you." 

"You can't," said Remus softly. "This is going to be a very long and dangerous journey, and we have good reason to believe her house is swarming with Death Eaters. It is too dangerous for you." 

"It sounds dangerous," agreed Lee. "That is why you need to use all the help you can get. I'll come with you, and we'll fight those Dark wizards together." 

"You're very eager, and that's very nice." Remus offered Lee an admiring smile. "But you're too young to do this." 

Dumbledore saw fit to intervene at this point. "How old were you when you lapsed into fighting the Dark Forces?" he attacked Remus. 

"Things were different then. Voldemort was rising. Good wizards were being killed. Our side needed reinforcement." 

"And how is that different than what we are facing today?" asked Dumbledore. 

"Er -" Remus was stuck. There wasn't much difference, actually. "All right," he consented eventually. "I'll fill you in on the details on the way, but you have to promise to do exactly as I tell you, or else you should stay here now." 

"I will do exactly as you tell me," Lee repeated obediently. 

"All right," said Remus, still a bit reluctantly. He pointed at the paper on the desk. "Can I take that with me?" 

"Of course," said Dumbledore. He watched Remus tear the front page of the copy, fold it carefully, and place it in his pocket. His face wore a mask of grief and worry. "Good luck," he mumbled to their backs as they disappeared behind the office's door. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Before Harry even had a chance to gape at Malfoy, his wand was already yanked out of his hand. He watched with horror as Malfoy handed his wand to his father, feeling his guts tying themselves into a complicated knot. At least now he could place the Death Eater's voice. 

"We've done it, Weasley," Draco said, catching everyone else by surprise. "Take her wand." He glared at Weasley, waiting for him to move. If Weasley decided not to go along with his plan and attacked the Death Eaters instead, they were all dead, including him. He had just revealed that he was siding with him, no matter what side Weasley was on. 

As if to stretch Draco's nerves to an impossible point, Weasley was laden to the ground, and didn't move. Luckily, Hermione caught on. She practically pushed her wand into Weasley's hand, and lapsed into a fake resistance act. Weasley tried to pull his hand back, not wanting to hurt Hermione, but she held it tight, making it seem like he was holding her. 

"Take it," she whispered between loud cries of protest. 

Ron just stared at her. Her eyes were large and beautiful and begging him to go along with the charade. Finally, he held her wand, holding her hand a little longer than necessary, just to feel her touch one more time. One time, which could very well be the last. 

She gave him a tiny supportive nod and cast her eyes to the ground, not wanting him to see the fear that was creeping into her. 

"Draco, you were able to recruit Ron Weasley?" Lucius Malfoy's voice sounded impressed. 

"Yes, Father. I thought that Potter's best friend would make an important addition to our ranks." 

"Very good, Draco," Lucius said proudly. "Our Lord and Master will be pleased." 

"Thank you, father." Draco lowered his head at the mention of their master. 

Lucius Malfoy took no chances. He kept five other Death Eaters with him to help him guard Potter and the mudblood girl. Even though they were both tied with magical cords, he still remembered Potter's previous performances and decided on some prudence. Truthfully, he bore some fear of the young boy. 

The six masked wizards and the two boys ushered Harry and Hermione back into the hut from which they came. Without the use of the state-of-the-art broomsticks, it took them well over two hours to get there. 

Draco kept close watch on Weasley, making sure he wasn't about to make a foolish heroic move and kill them both. He knew how cheap their lives were, even for his own father, and hoped that Weasley appreciated that as well. He smiled bitterly, thinking that the only person there, whose life was treasured, was Potter who was saved to be served to the Dark Lord. In any event, he made sure to block Weasley's view of the other Death Eaters. 

By the time they got to the hut, Harry was thirsty, and weary, and was beginning to lose concentration. Their arrival to the hut prodded him a bit, but still, he wasn't half-ready when the huge blow caught him at the back of the head. He only had time to see Hermione collapse by his side before he blacked out. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"I've brought you some food." The door closed behind Snape with a smooth 'clink' as he carried a large silver trey inside. 

The three prisoners jumped to their feet, and were on his side a second later. "It's about time," said Sirius, taking the trey off Snape's hands. "Not as much as a glass of water until now. What kind of hosts are you, anyway?" 

Arabella and Mundungus were in a less playful mood. They waited for Snape to be free of the trey, and then, both made a grab at him. Mundungus caught Snape's left arm in a mighty lock behind his back, while Arabella swept him off his feet. Before he even had time to shout the first syllable, Snape was on the ground, his shoulders locked beyond any thought of motion, and his mouth gagged with both of Arabella's hands, and much of her weight. The rest of Arabella's weight was on his chest, nailing him to the flagstones as an added bonus to Mundungus' lock. 

Snape struggled to talk, but he barely even managed to breath under Arabella's pressing palms. He looked to Sirius with eyes wide with fear and anger. Sirius returned his gaze, slothfully chewing on an apple from the trey Snape had brought in with him. 

"If I ask them to remove the gag, do you promise to behave?" drawled Sirius, spitting little bits of apple as he spoke. 

Snape failed his attempt to say 'yes'. He nodded his head as much as Arabella's hold allowed him. 

"That's a good boy," flouted Sirius. "All right, Arabella, you can take your hands off his face, but don't let him up." 

Arabella removed her hands and wiped them on Snape's shoulders, expression visible disgust. 

"I never should have removed the bonding spells off you," spat Snape. "I should have known you were a bunch of treacherous, ungrateful, unworthy -" His rant was abruptly cut off by a hard slap from Arabella's hand. 

"Good one," Sirius complimented her. 

Snape's face was red with anger, although one side of it had a more vivid colour than the other. "You do realise that if I'm not out of here in about one minute, real Death Eaters will be coming in." 

"'Real Death Eaters' as opposed to you being a 'toy Death Eater' that you are?" mocked Mundungus. He looked to Sirius, not remotely lessening his grip on Snape's arm. "Can I have a bite of that apple too? I'm starving." 

Sirius moved to feed the apple to Mundungus, deliberately prodding Snape's ribs in the process. "How many?" he asked. 

"How many Death Eaters in the house?" 

"I told you this was You-Know-Who's main headquarters," Snape said carefully, not releasing a number. 

"What exactly does that mean? Ten? Twenty?" 

"Around those numbers, yes," answered Snape. "Only -" He seemed to have something to say, but didn't know quite how to say it. 

"What?" snapped Sirius. 

"There will be some honoured guests here today. That means that the house will be full." Mundungus released his grip a bit, listening to Snape. Snape tried to wriggle out of the lock, but only managed to move slightly. "I believe there will be around fifty minions of the dark forces by nightfall." 

"Who are these guests?" demanded Sirius. He had neglected his apple completely. 

"Release me, and I'll tell you." 

Sirius considered that for a moment, and then signalled with his head for Mundungus and Arabella to get up. Snape struggled to his feet and stepped to the door. He opened the door, stepped through it, and just before it closed, he cast the words into the room: "Your godson and his friends." 

aaaaaaaaaa

First, they had needed to walk to Hogsmeade to apparate from there. No one was able to apparate from Hogwarts grounds, and since they hadn't had prior knowledge of their target, they could not have a Portkey ready to take them there. Then, they had apparated as close as they could to their target, which meant that they had landed almost fifteen miles off-course. Remus had insisted that that was the minimum distance needed in order not to alert the wizards guarding the house. As Lee was new to this business, and since he didn't want to annoy Remus before they even really started, he had accepted Remus' opinion about it. 

Now, two hours later, they were walking in the thickest forest Lee had ever seen. There was no marked trail, and no way to tell where they were going. It was even impossible to see the direction of the sun to determine the east. Remus seemed to be leading the way by some sort of an inner sense of direction. Lee had pulled out his wand frequently, to use the '_point me_' spell. To his surprise, they were exactly on course every single time. 

The vegetation seemed, if possible, thicker, and Lee's long hair got tangled in a branch for the third time in ten minutes. To his great vexation, this time, he failed to free himself on his own force. He called Remus for help. 

Remus took a few steps back, until he was aligned with Lee again. "Is there a problem?" he asked, and then saw Lee's gloomy face and his hand pulling desperately one of his dreadlocks that wrapped itself around a thick twig. "Forget I asked," he said. He pulled out a knife and gently cut off the tip of the dreadlock, leaving it a few centimetres shorter, but free as a bird. 

"Thanks," Lee sighed in relief. 

"No problem." Remus folded the knife back into his pocket, and resumed his navigation. They had a long way to walk, and he wanted to get to the house as soon as possible. He didn't dare to think of the tortures inflicted upon Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus. He even bore less the thought of one of them surrendering to the tortures and giving crucial information to help the Dark Lord. 

Remus increased his pace as much as the dense growth allowed him, when he heard Lee's voice calling him again for help. He used his knife on another dreadlock, this time being a little less gentle and chopping off half of it. 

Remus didn't bother to hide his annoyance when Lee called him the third time, all within the breach of only a few minutes. 

Lee knew that this could not go on. The forest seemed to last forever, and he was causing them delay. It was either giving up on the search and letting Remus continue on his own, or giving up the dreadlocks. The dreadlocks were as good as gone. 

"Can I borrow your knife for a minute?" 

Remus deposited the knife in Lee's hand with a curious expression. He watched him take a handful of hair and put the knife to it. His mouth opened wide when he realized what Lee was doing. When he first met Lee, over three years before, he had asked others about his odd hairdo, and they said that it was traced back long before he even entered Hogwarts. Remus felt better about taking Lee with him. If he was this determined to succeed, he might be a considerable reinforcement after all. 

A moment later, Lee handed the knife back to Remus, standing in the middle of a small curled rug. Remus looked for signs of remorse on his face, but there was none. Only determined resolution. He turned back to their original direction, and started walking, a proud smile tickling his lips. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Ron watched with horror as two mountainous Death Eaters knocked out his two best friends with heavy metal-covered clubs and then heaved them on their massive shoulders. Both titans walked with their loads to the large fire and the far wall of the room, and waited. 

The rest of those present eased their wands into their pockets. Ron was almost compelled to use his wand to disable Lucius Malfoy, but Draco Malfoy was in his path, glaring at him. 

"You can put your wand away now, Ron," Draco said, stifling the urge to call him Weasley. 

Ron was left with no choice. With arm muscles cramping from the number of contradicting commands, Ron pushed his wand back into the pocket of his robes, unable to hide the agony this action caused him. 

"Enthusiastic youth, are you not?" said Lucius Malfoy. He had removed his mask to reveal a patronising smile beneath it. He placed a paternal hand on Ron's shoulder, sending the boy into a long wave of shivers. 

Lucius Malfoy seemed to either have missed Ron's reaction, or to be used to it. He went to the stack of jars and pulled out one. 

"What is it?" Ron whispered into Draco's ear. 

"Almost ordinary floo powder," replied Draco. 

"What do you mean _almost_?" Ron was beginning to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

"It will only take you to one place. No need to shout the name of the place you're going to. Very practical when transferring prisoners." 

"Oh." Ron pushed away the idea of using it to storm into the Ministry of Magic and alerting every possible wizard there. "Where would it take us?" 

"I have no idea," whispered Draco, allowing his own agitation creep into his voice. 

"Draco, Ron, you go first," ordered Lucius Malfoy. He waited for them to step in front of the fire, not bothering to hide his impatience. They both automatically stood at attention and watched him throw a pinch of powder into the hearth. As the flames roared high, they stepped into them and immediately began to spin. 

Their spinning ended seconds later in a large brown room. The walls and ceiling were made of thick cherry boards. The floor was covered with a rug, displaying complex Arabic patterns in all shades of maroon. There was a low mahogany table in the middle of the room, and a large cherry closet decorated its corner. There was something else in there - people - wizards - Death Eaters, to be exact. Six of them. And they did not take well the boys' surprise appearance. 

One of the Death Eaters, undoubtedly the bravest of the lot, approached the two, his wand cutting the air before him. It was aimed very distinctly at Ron, while the Dark Wizard was looking at Draco for explanations. "Isn't that a Weasley?" he asked. 

"Not just _any_ Weasley," said Draco with feint smugness. "This is Ron Weasley. Our newest recruit. He helped us bring Harry Potter down." 

The Death Eater's face was not visible through his mask, but his posture suggested that he was considering the feasibility of the thing. 

The only thing in the room that was not the shade of brown was the hearth. It was antique silver and burned with a green flame that was now swelling, indicating that someone was about to emerge from it. 

The small group took a step back to allow space to whomever was coming out of the fire. A giant Death Eater stepped from inside flames, carrying the unconscious body of Hermione. Right behind him was the other giant, carrying Harry. Although limp and obviously out of action, both were securely tied up. Hermione's arms and legs were put in shackles, which clattered as she was carried away. Harry's identical shackles could not clatter because as an additional precaution, his arms and legs were also wrapped in thick ropes. The ropes did not end there. They swathed his entire body, making him look like an oversized bobbin. 

Ron watched the two giants and their cargo until they disappeared up a hall. Only then did he notice the fire swelling again. One after the other, the flames spat out the remaining Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy who had replaced his mask. When the transfer was done, Draco and Ron were standing in the middle of a circle composed of ten masked Death Eaters, six of which were pointing their wands at them. 

"That's my boy here," roared Lucius Malfoy. "Lower your wands." 

The six aimed their wands to the floor, but made a point of keeping them in hand. "Did the Weasley really help you?" asked the bravest one. 

"He and Draco practically delivered Potter and the Mudblood to our hands," said one of Lucius Malfoy's companions. He looked to his master for approval, and received it with a proud lift of the chin and towering shoulders. "Draco's the one who apprehended Potter's wand and Weasley here took the mudblood's" It was obvious from his tone of voice that he was aiming the words at flattering his master. By Lucius' proud posture, he was doing a good job. 

"What made you switch sides, Ron?" The masked wizard who asked the question had used Ron's private name not as a friendly gesture, but as a diminishing one. 

"Draco," Ron said slowly. He looked intently at Draco's face, looking for the first sign of danger if he said the wrong thing. Draco's expression was completely unreadable. For all that mattered, he could have worn one of those masks. "He showed me the strength of the dark side," Ron continued experimentally. Still no response. "I'm a pure-blood wizard. My family can be traced hundreds of years back. Draco made me realize the potential danger in contaminating our ancestry with mudbloods and muggles. There is much power in keeping our blood clean." Ron wasn't sure, but he though he saw a glimpse of surprise in Draco's eyes. 

"And what about Harry Potter?" the Death Eater insisted, although his voice was less harsh now. "We were under the impression that he was your friend." 

"He was," stammered Ron. "That is why he allowed himself to show me his true colours, and believe me, they aren't so bright." Ron's speech became more fluent as his explanation progressed. "I do believe that the only reason he wants to get You- I mean, our Master, is because he wants to take his place." 

"I knew that!" exclaimed Lucius Malfoy. The other Death Eaters were murmuring as well. The six who had their wands out pocketed them. Their leader came up to Ron and took his hand to shake it. 

"You must be very anxious to get the Dark Mark seared on you, Weasley. Did Draco explain the procedure to you?" 

Ron looked at Draco for help. He didn't know if a 'no' answer would be accepted well, but he was afraid to say 'yes' and then be asked about it and not know the answer. Draco seemed to have appreciated the position he was in, because he took the attention away from him. 

"I have, Father," he said. "We thought that the mudblood we captured would be his sacrifice." Draco tried to ignore Ron's paling face. "This is why he was the one to seize her. Maybe we could rest here for a few days, and then he will present her to our Master." 

"You are very much in luck," answered Lucius Malfoy. "You won't have to wait that long. Our master is scheduled to be here this afternoon." He placed what was supposed to be a supportive hand on Ron's shoulder. "You didn't expect to be marked for our lines so soon, did you, Ron?" He was right, of course. Ron truly _didn't_. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry felt something like soft leather under his head. He felt it with his hand before daring to open his eyes. 

"Stop that. You're tickling me," said a soft, familiar voice. 

Harry jumped to an upright sitting position. He looked at what he though was a pillow to make sure he hadn't mistaken the voice. "Sirius!" he called after his eyes confirmed what his ears had already told him. 

"Welcome to our humble prison, Harry." Sirius grinned. "What are you doing here?" 

"Where's Hermione?" Harry ignored the question presented to him. 

"She's right there with Arabella." Sirius pointed to one of the dimmer corners of the cell, where Arabella Figg was seated, leaning against the wall, holding Hermione's head in her lap. "So, you decided to play the heroes and come look for us?" 

Harry almost said 'no', but then he remembered the real reason he was there - to look for whoever marked him as a Death Eater. That was not something he wanted to share with Sirius. "I'm afraid so," he answered eventually. 

"That was very stupid of you," scolded Sirius. "We're now in a worse condition than we were. We're still in their hands, but now they have something to bargain with." 

"I'm sorry." Harry's apology was genuine, but not for the reasons he wanted Sirius to know. "What do you thing they'll do with us?" 

"Probably turn us all into that ugly snake's breakfast." Sirius' voice was full of jeer. He pointed to yet another corner of the room, where a huge serpent was coiled. It seemed to be sleeping until Harry looked at it. Then, it raised its huge head and hissed at the two. 

"Die, humans. I haven't eaten in three months. Die already." 

Harry flinched so sharply, that he almost fell backwards. 

"What? Did it say something to you? What did it say?" Sirius seemed to be torn between rabid curiosity and fundamental fear. 

"Nothing," lied Harry. "Just that it wants to get out of here." He stared at the enormous snake, which started lowering his head, ready to coil back into sleep. 

"Why haven't you eaten for three months?" he hissed at it. 

"You can talk, human?" If snakes could look surprised, this one would have used that expression right then. 

"You mean parseltongue? Yes, I can. I found that out when I accidentally set free a Boa Constrictor from an aquarium in the zoo." 

"How is it possible to do such a thing accidentally?" 

"I just really wanted him to be out and poof! He's out." Harry's description matched reality much more than it my have sounded. 

The snake still glared at him, but its eyes have lost something of their murderous glamour. "No bodies." 

"What?" hissed Harry back, not understanding what the snake was talking about. 

"There were no bodies. All are either burned to ashes or drowned. This is why I've starved for three months now. It seems that you are going to be my first decent meal after a very long time." 

"What's going on?" intervened Sirius. He didn't like Harry's lengthy conversation with the snake. 

"Nothing," Harry repeated his previous answer. 

"Why don't you eat other things?" asked Harry. He hesitated about his next move, but he was afraid he was pushing it. "I'm not saying 'give up the dead bodies', I'm just saying - have something else in the mean time." 

"I have milk," hissed the snake. It tried to look disgusted, but only managed to shift its lower jaw a bit, which made him like a sock puppet. 

"I meant for something more substantial," hissed Harry. "Like rats or something." 

"_You_ eat Rats," The snake's hiss was louder than before. 

"I'm sorry," Harry apologised quickly. "I don't really know what snakes eat. I guess you could eat an elephant." The snake stared at him and looked pensive. "But you probably don't want to look like a hat," added Harry. 

The humour passed over the huge serpent's head. "What do humans eat? The _substantial_ food?" 

"You mean meat? We eat pigs, cows, lambs - I don't know." 

"That's it?" 

"No, we also have fish -" 

The large serpent tried to retch. 

"And birds," continued Harry. He was beginning to feel pressured. "Chicken, turkey, duck -" 

"Duck?" the snake interposed. "Duck sounds nice… Maybe I could have some duck… Yeah…" It lowered its head, winding its coils into a more agreeable position. It looked like its entire body was flowing, not all in the three conceivable dimensions. Its head landed on one of the coils, and it was still moving its jaws in what looked like an impression of someone smacking his lips. 

Harry tilted his head with confusion. His attention was brought back to Sirius, who by now resorted to shaking him. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Trying to pull you out of the trance that thing has got you into." Sirius' voice was on the verge of hysteria. 

"I wasn't in a trance," dismissed Harry. 

"Than why were you talking with it for so long?" 

Harry sighed. He decided that holding one big secret from Sirius was enough, and described to him the conversation he just had. To his surprise, Sirius wasn't at all freaked out by the idea of being eaten by the serpent. Sirius' only response was "Oh, well." 

aaaaaaaaaa

This was the first time Ron had seen the Dark Lord. 

Even before the tall skeletal figure had removed its hood, Ron already had a notion of why people were afraid even of this wizard's name. He had a foreboding air of malice all around him. It entered any room before him, clearing the way for him like a rolling red carpet. It lasted as long as he was in the room, and a while longer. 

When he had his cowl removed, Ron felt his breath leave him. For the first time since he was eleven, he did not envy Harry. He suddenly felt deeply sorry for him for having to face this. A moment later he'd realised that he might be forced to face this wizard too. The thought made him quiver badly. 

Lord Voldemort stalked into the room, his posture radiating confidence. "Where is Nagini?" he asked with a high-pitched hiss. 

"She is with the prisoners, Master," answered Lucius Malfoy. "I think she wanted to personally guard Potter." Truth be told, Malfoy was very glad the snake was locked away. Its yellow-slit eyes always looked at him like it was considering making him its next meal. 

"Ah yes," rasped Voldemort. "Too bad about that." There was an audible threat in his voice. "You took him too soon. The boy is not ripe. He will not move to our side. You should have waited." 

"Master, please, the boy and his Mudblood friend found their way into one of our communications centres," grovelled Malfoy. "We had to grab them before they could do much damage." 

"Don't lie to me," erupted Voldemort. "You took them miles away from the centre." 

"Yes Master, but they already had a good look around, and knew their way back. It was dangerous." Lucius Malfoy made a garb at the hem of Voldemort's robes and tried to kiss it, but the Dark Lord stepped away, pulling his robes with him. Malfoy fell forward to his knees. He stayed kneeling, and bowed his head before his master. 

"This is hardly the time to fume about this," placated Voldemort, but immediately his serpentine face wore a harsh facade once more. "We will have plenty of time for that later." He cast his red eyes over Ron. "We still have an initiation process to take care of." 

"Shall I bring the Mudblood girl, My Lord?" Lucius Malfoy was now looking for any excuse to get out of the room and have a chance to catch his breath. 

"Noooo." Voldemort put much feeling into that one single word. "All the times I had Potter in my hands, I have made the mistake of giving him time to escape. No more. Bring Potter to me. I shall kill him now." 

Ron turned completely white. Only his carrot hair indicated that he could have once had freckles on his face. He watched Lucius's silhouette until it disappeared in the shadows of the hall, and then grabbed Draco's arm. 

"We have to do something," he whispered. Luckily, the Dark Lord was some distance away and couldn't hear him. "He's going to kill Harry." 

"You're right," Draco tried to shake him off. "He is about to kill Harry. And if you want to have any chance of saving Hermione, you will watch it silently." 

"What?!" cried Ron. His shriek made Voldemort swirl to face the two boys. 

"I already told you," said Draco impatiently. "You will have to choose one gift with your Dark Mark. Be thankful for that." 

Voldemort directed what was an unmistakable smile at them. He took a step towards Ron. "Can't wait to join our lists as a full member, can you?" he placed a long white finger on Ron's cheek. His finger felt like it was kept on ice for at least a few years. It released unpleasant shivers in Ron's nape. "So what will it be, boy? What will you ask when you can have anything you might want?" 

Ron didn't answer. He swallowed hard. 

"Wisdom? No. Nobody ever asks for wisdom any more. Maybe wealth? That might suit you well." He regarded Ron's tacky robes critically. "A small fortune might to you good - but, no, there's something else. Yes, I know what it is you want. I had one just like you years ago. You want fame." He stopped talking for a moment to regard the spark that lit in Ron's eyes. "Definitely fame. Well, there will be nothing easier to arrange, considering whose house we're in." 

The sound of dragging feet could be distinctly heard from the hall, they all turned towards it, their contact breaking. Harry emerged from the shadows, closely followed by Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy's wand was stabbing Harry between his shoulder blades. Right behind them was Nagini. She slithered past them and recoiled at her master's feet. 

"Black had him unshackled," muttered Malfoy. "I put a very simple binding spell on him." The bonds on Harry's hands did seem loose and rushed. 

"That hardly matters," hissed Voldemort. "In a moment, he won't be needing them." He started raising his wand. 

Ron shook out of control. He sent his hand to his wand, unable to let his best friend die without a fight. Draco spotted his movement and grabbed him from behind, praying that no one could see their struggle. 

"Aren't we going to duel?" Harry tried to buy some time. 

"No," Voldemort answered curtly. His wand was aimed directly at Harry's heart. 

Harry's mind raced. "Don't you want Sirius to watch you torture me?" he tried again. He remembered how during their encounter last year, Voldemort took great pleasure in hitting him with the Cruciatus Curse again and again while Sirius was forced to watch. His rage was beginning to surge as he remembered the same curse being put on Sirius. 

The Dark Lord took one step closer to Harry. "Move aside, Lucius," he hissed warningly. "This might have effect on his surroundings." 

The firm hand that had ushered Harry here left his side. The wand that was prodding in his back was removed. Harry didn't have to look back to know that Lucius Malfoy had ensured a safety distance. He felt his heart sink low. Fear and anger filled him. He knew by the expression on Voldemort's face that this was how it ended. He could see it in his eyes. 

"_Avada_ -" The killing curse started forming on Voldemort's mouth-opening and on the tip of his wand at the same time. 

Harry was overwhelmed with despair. He didn't have a wand, and even if he did, there was nothing that could stop this curse. He saw Malfoy forcefully restrain Ron, and for one selfish moment, one that could very well be his last, Harry felt irrational fury towards the two for not moving to his aid. Of sheer desperation, he mumbled "_expelliarmus_," knowing that it would do him no good. 

"- _Kedavra_," Voldemort finished. A brilliant green flare left the tip of his wand. It travelled with lightening speed towards Harry. Before anyone in the room could make out its exact form, it hit Harry's chest. 

aaaaaaaaaa

A/N:  
Well, now is the time to let me know if you want Harry out of the picture, clearing Draco's path to Hermione's heart, or, if you want him saved. As you know, I take requests. 

Read? Review!

Thanks to:  
First and foremost, the wonderful, patient, caring beta-readers who gave meaning to my writing: **Jeralyn**, who has a star cameo in ASA. **Dinah**, who neglected her studies for me. Tsk, tsk, tsk. And **Isabelle Centeno**, who will get a Cameo in chapter #9. 

Lizzy/Tygrestick: Eek. If the previous chapter scared you, I have no idea what this one will do. I truly am sorry, but I'll try to write the next one quickly.  
**Amanita Lestrange:** Betas are wonderful! Thanks.  
**Sarah Jane:** Smiles back at you.  
**GinniPotter:** As a token of my appreciation, you got some H/R moments in the previous chapter. Also, to your request (and a few others), I gave Lee a haircut. When you say 'anything but H/H' - does that include killing off Harry? Because you know - your vote counts! If you like WMPP, you should read everything by Saralea. She's my inspiration when it comes to this gang. Stinkerbell also has an excellent story called 'Sirius' heartache' - very recommended.  
**Blue Butterfly:** Hon, I'm extremely flattered that you want to beta me just to get a hold of the chapters a bit sooner, but beta-reading includes sending back the chapter with corrections. . I'll send you #8 when it's ready anyway.  
**Al:** your opinion means a great deal, and thanks for teaching me the word 'kudos' - I just put it to use. :) I'm sorry for the 'ferries' thing, although your description sent me ROFL. sheepishly Fixed that.  
**Dinah:** Just though I'd thank you again, since you bothered to review after the e-mails. I added a Sirius-Snape scene in this bit because of you, and you know there's several of them in #8.  
**Kris, HGW, Stark-raving-loony, Sarah, Mackenzie McKinnon:** Thanks!  
**RatheraMutemwiya:** I hope you still like Malfoy. Got a little carried there :). Seems like a nice idea for your own fic. Feel free to use this as a base, if you feel like it.  
**Cassandra Claire:** You've made some valid points. I tried to keep Hermione more to-character this time round (well, more like from the next chapter). Luckily for me, I don't think Keith is reading this. :)  
**Diddly day:** Absolutely right, with you on every word. But, if you look at my author's page you'll see the warning that I don't promise to stay true to my ships.  
**LunaLuv:** Amen! You're the only one who caught up on the slash hints. It won't go further than a few implies, but I was afraid that bit was too subtle (if such a thing exists). Right about Hermione going OC, I actually don't like that either, but, oh, this is soap. Anyway, I don't think she's playing with them. She was very direct with Krum, and she may just not be aware of all the bustle around her.  
**SilverTone:** Someone already said that he was afraid to cling into a ship in this story, and he was right. I'm as much baffled about the ships as you are.  
**CrystalMusic:** Er… okay, who's Gypsy? I thought this was all the doings of Cassandra Claire. Keep rambling! I like knowing which points caught you.  
**Mwalimu:** Wow! I wanted to e-mail you my thanks, but you never leave an address. 'tardiness'? are you kidding? This was perfect - exactly what I needed. Fixed everything you mentioned, and I hope to hear more from you. Anyway - feel free to mail me. Your vote shifted the balance towards adding more Sirius/Snape moments. More to come in #8. I'll try to set Hermione back on character for #8.  
**Sanna:** I'm sorry for the long chapter (?) It's nice to see that your belief in me is so great that you put a positive review before you actually read the chapter. :)  
**reader:** your vote was registered with all severity.  
**Banana Republic:** Hey, hey! Nobody's dead yet! Oh, scratch that. Nobody died in the previous chapter. It sounds like there's a real battle inside you. You do remember this is only a fun fic, right? :)  
**Parker Brown Nesbit:** Thank for the multiple-reviews, and thanks for making an effort to beta. Nit-pick all you like. I live for that. I have no idea who Hermione loves, but #8 certainly gives a plausible option. No doubt that she's attracted to Draco. This story is a declared "Soap Opera" it makes it easier to write such rubbish. :) I'm still waiting for your mail about Snape.  
**Mabel:** thanks for reviewing past chapters as well. Good to know what you liked.  
**Martibella:** pfew… good to know you don't think it was too long. Originally #6 and #7 were planned as one long chapter, but I had to cut it in half.  
**Jessica:** My god, you're brave! One sitting! I'm extremely flattered. Well, you made me add a 'stories not true to my ships' warning on my author's page. Your vote for H/H was registered.  
**Dagan:** Oh dear, you don't know what you've got yourself into. I'll post this, and then answer your mail with great detail. Well, I must admit that the previous chapter was good for bedtime reading. I hope it didn't put you to sleep too quickly. :) This time, I strongly recommend to let the ending lie down a bit before going into bed… I'll make it up to you in #8.

35


	8. Birds of a Feather

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 8**_

_Birds of a Feather_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Dark-Mark Knickers H/H D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: I'm sinking lower than low in this chapter, making all the boys strip down to their knickers. Keep a straight face, and have fun.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
**Warning:** I meant to give you a rest, and end this chapter with no cliffhangers, but it just came out too long. This one is probably as bad as the one in the previous chapter.

aaaaaaaaaa

"- _Kedavra_," Voldemort finished. A brilliant green flare left the tip of his wand. It travelled with lightning speed towards Harry. Before anyone in the room could make out its exact form, it hit Harry's chest. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"How much further do we have to go?" 

"I don't know exactly, but we can't be very far." Remus pushed aside a thorny plant just to walk into the spikes of another. "Do you need to rest, Lee?" 

"I don't want to cause a delay," answered Lee, his words barely heard over his wheezing. 

Remus stopped and looked at him. "You're not going to be much good in the final confrontation in this condition." He scanned their surroundings for a piece of ground bare of spiky rocks and thorns. As he couldn't find any, he chose a small area clear of the flesh-tearing vegetation, and began kicking away the larger rocks. "We _have_ been walking for five hours straight and you're not used to that." Seeing the miserable expression on Lee's face, Remus tried to think of something nice to say. "I could certainly use some rest as well. Let's just sit for a few minutes." Lee's grateful face told him that he had said the right thing. 

To his surprise, Remus did not have to drag Lee back to the road. After only a very short rest, Lee stood on his own initiative, looking refreshed and ready to leave. Remus was very pleased with him. He reminisced over his previous missions. _If this had been Sirius, I'd have had to threaten him with terrible curses before he'd have gotten up._

As it happened, the place they chose for their respite had probably been their last opportunity for it. A mile further into the hostile terrain, Rita Skeeter's house came into view. The winter's mid-day sunrays shone over the house, making the melted snow on its roof sparkle like diamond powder. 

Remus chose a large rock and signalled Lee to crouch behind it. He positioned himself behind a sibling boulder. Every time Lee had tried to take a peek in the direction of the house, he had received angry glares from Remus. On one occasion he had even received a small flying pebble, which caught him on the nose and made him see black spots for several minutes. The pebble finally made him take the hint and just lie back and wait for Remus to assess the situation. 

Lee watched Remus' every motion with great care, hoping that his slightest grimace would tell him what he was seeing. He was absolutely right to assume that. Only minutes later, Remus' pale and stunned face had given him a good hint as to what he saw. He opened his mouth to ask for details, but Remus raised a shaky finger to his mouth as a sign to be quiet. He began making his way away from the cabin, beckoning Lee to follow him. 

The two only stopped when they were safely away from the house. By then, all the patience Lee had practiced since early morning was beginning to disintegrate. 

"Why are we getting away from Skeeter's house?" Lee demanded the minute he felt he was allowed to talk again. "I thought that was our target." 

"That was our target," answered Remus, "But we need to rethink our strategy." He looked at Lee's expectant eyes. The boy was very young. Too young to get into such a battle, too young to die. "There are Death Eaters in the house." 

"So what?" said Lee with a touch of over-confidence. "We have the element of surprise on our side. We could take even three or four of them." He recognised Remus' downcast expression. "Each," he added with more hesitation. 

"Even if we can take four of them - each - that won't be sufficient." 

Lee was beginning to appreciate the size of problem. "How many are there anyway?" he asked. 

"I can only estimate," said Remus grimly. "I'd say around fifty. I don't know if there's a single dark wizard in this country who's not there. They're having a bloody convention!" 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry felt the curse hit his chest with a burning singe. He felt its echo inside his chest like a Ping-Pong ball trying to escape. He saw the golden thread connecting his chest and Voldemort's wand, and saw the golden cage forming around them, carrying the two high into the air. Harry now knew how it felt to be hit by the golden beam of the Priori Incantatem ancient magic, how it was to have the other side in control of the cage, to see your own spells reoccur, and it was not a pleasant experience. 

Out of his very chest, being born inside the folds of his robes, came the shape of a broomstick - a Firebolt carrying two young men. It was flying very fast, and yet, it stayed hovering above Harry's head at exactly the same spot. Subsequently, came the unconscious form of someone who was unmistakably Hermione. Something new was beginning to blossom from Harry's chest right after her, but at that second, Voldemort chose to break the link. 

They both fell to the ground. Harry fell ungracefully on his back, still surrounded by the two shadows of his spells. Voldemort landed on his legs, roaring with rage. "How dare you escape my curse again!" he screeched. "_crucio_!" His wand pointed mercilessly towards Harry's helpless form. He held it towards him for very long, letting Harry's anguished screams help regain his own twisted mental balance. 

Finally, the Dark Lord was able to relax his facial muscles and remove the cruel grimace that was plastered on his face for long minutes. Some time later, when Harry's screams could no longer be heard, and his body had stopped twitching, he lowered his hand as well. 

Harry remained lying on the flagstones, almost motionless. His ribs kept rising and falling in a non-rhythmical and all around pathetic manner. Voldemort gave one of the Death Eaters around a quick squint. "Take him to the secured dungeon cell," he commanded. 

Snape felt the Dark Lord's glance burning on his skin. "Yes Master," he said. He bowed deeply to him, and then heaved Harry's limp body, loaded it over his shoulder and took it with him through the hearth's burning green flames. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Taking Harry out had done wonders to Voldemort's confidence. Before Harry was removed, his presence was well felt in the room. Now, it absolutely consumed every dark corner. He also seemed to have grown an inch taller. He had started ordering his minions around. 

In a matter of minutes, there were a dozen Death Eaters aligned in front of the hearth, Ron and Draco among them, waiting to use the tagged floo powder to get to Ron's initiation ceremony. Ron himself was trembling with fear, trying his best to come up with some plan that didn't end up with him dead or carrying the Dark Mark. So far, all his plans could be categorised as either of the two unappealing options. 

Lucius Malfoy was at the head of the line. He stood, getting last-minute orders from his Master. "I will see you there," concluded Voldemort with a hiss. 

"Master, please have the honour to be the first to step into the fireplace." 

"No Lucius, I will apparate there." He started walking towards the door of the hut. 

"I'm sorry, My Lord, I think the ceremonial chamber is blocked to apparation." 

"Are you questioning my abilities, Lucius?" 

Ron could feel Draco wincing by his side. 

"No Master -" Lucius Malfoy got down on his knees. "I am truly sorry My Lord -" He grabbed the rim of Voldemort's robes and kissed it. "I didn't realise -" 

"Of course you didn't," said Voldemort in a voice as calm as the centre of a hurricane. He raised his wand, and with a swift motion lowered it onto Lucius' jaw. Lucius' lip split, and blood trickled all over his robes, soaking his collar. The side of his face swelled and shone vivid red. It looked like there was a good chance his jaw was broken. 

Lucius, however, ignored the blood and the obvious pain. He got up and took back his place at the front of the line, the remainder of his chin set to the front. He led the others one by one through the flames, concluding with Ron and Draco. 

They emerged in a large yet unremarkable room. It had plain plastered walls and was completely unfurnished except for the plain wooden fireplace through which they came. Ron was somewhat disappointed by the lameness of the place. "Is this it?" he asked Draco in a low whisper. The dispassion was noticeable in his voice. 

"This is just the transition room," Draco whispered back. "Wait." 

Ron waited. The flames behind his back made a menacing hissing sound, swelled, and then spat out Lucius Malfoy, who had seemingly used the few seconds alone on the other side to heal his bruised face. He found a place beside Ron and Draco, and waited with them. 

A short and somewhat plump Death Eater entered the room through one of its many doors. Without looking at the other assembled wizards, he reached a bare wall and stood in front of it. Ron recognised the Death Eater immediately. Although he was wearing a mask, and his head was covered with the hood of his unrevealing black robes, Ron had no doubt in his heart as to the man's identity. He had spent too many years with him to forget. Even if he had assumed the form of a rat during those years. It was Scabbers - Wormtail - Peter Pettigrew. 

Ron's ex-rat raised a silvery hand and placed it on the wall in front of him. The mumbled words of a chant reached Ron and Draco's ears. Thin, deep purple circles started forming around the silver fingers, surrounding the hand with a purple glow. As the chant proceeded, more and more circles formed around the hand, growing wider to include a large portion of the wall. When Pettigrew had stopped chanting and removed his hand, there was a large magenta puddle decorating the wall. 

Peter Pettigrew stepped into the puddle and disappeared from their sight. As they did with the hearth earlier, the other Death Eaters formed a single file line, each waiting his turn to pass through the glowing puddle. Ron and Draco tried to join the line, but were stopped. 

A Death Eater unknown to them held both their arms. "You cannot go in, not just yet," he told them. Both boys paled, afraid that their intentions had been discovered. The dark wizard seemed oblivious to their reaction. He led them to side room and ushered them inside. "Get dressed," he ordered. "I'll wait for you outside." 

The room was just large enough to contain two wooden chairs, one very big wardrobe and the two boys, standing uncomfortably close to one another. 

Draco opened the wardrobe's heavy wooden door, not too carefully. 

"Hey! Watch it," cried Ron. "You almost knocked me out with that thing." 

"Oh," said Draco, unimpressed. 

Ron gave him a glare, but that, too, went unnoticed. He was about to continue reproaching Draco, when he noticed his open mouth and wide eyes. He followed his gaze into the wardrobe, and his own jaw dropped as well. 

The wardrobe was almost empty. Almost. Two full body suits were hanging in there, including black trousers, black robes with silver serpent-shaped buttons for closing the front flap, black socks and black shoes. Each outfit came complete with a white Death Eater's mask. These were very clearly left there for them. There was also no mistake which robes were intended for which of the boys. Ron and Draco exchanged amazed looks, and with some effort due to the dimensions of the room, changed places. 

Draco started to loosen the many strips that held his multi-layered silk robes. Ron watched him, first with dread, and then with submission. _That's not so bad_, he tried to tell himself. _I've changed in the boy's dormitories many times before_. He shrugged, and pulled his ragged hand-me-down robes over his head. 

"Nice pants," commented Draco, as Ron reached for the wardrobe. 

Ron blushed. He was wearing his dancing fruit boxer shorts, enchanted to change the fruits with the change of the season. Right now, they featured apples, strawberries, and little white mice. Ron suspected that the mice were the works of his older twin brothers. 

Ron hurried to put on the new robes, noting that Draco's pants were made of black silk - a perfect match to his former robes. For the first time in his life, Ron felt completely comfortable in his clothes. They were exactly the right size, as if they were tailored especially for him. The fabric felt smooth and caressed his skin like a gentle lover. 

Draco was already trying to pull up the trousers, a job that was made difficult by his frequent pauses to scratch his shins. "This material is rough and itchy," he complained. "I hate it." His whining stopped abruptly as one of Ron's elbows mistakenly hit his bare back. He grabbed Ron's arm, knowing that the fault was on the crowded place, and still feeling vexed. 

Ron had stopped trying to fix the buttons of the robes, and turned to Draco, following the pull on his arm. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. Something about Draco's uncovered chest made him choke. Draco was quick to drop Ron's arm. He didn't even bother to use the opportunity to make snide remarks at Ron's expense. He returned to putting on clothes, no longer complaining about the fabric. 

When the two were fully dressed and shod, they opened the door back to the transition room. As he promised, the Death Eater was waiting for them outside. "Put on the masks," he ordered. 

Draco placed the mask on his face with an experienced hand. Ron followed suit. They walked with the wizard up to the purple glow, at which point he placed torches in their hands, and beckoned them to walk through before he did. 

An incredible sight unravelled in front of them as they went through. They had entered a round arena, enclosed by tall black walls. The walls were so black that it was hard to tell exactly where the room stopped and the walls began. In the middle of the room was a large green marble altar. It was decorated all around with snakes and other creatures, all made of pure silver. There was a girl lying on the altar, very tightly strapped to it. Her arms were stretched above her head so violently that she had trouble breathing without dislocating a shoulder. Ron gasped as he recognised the girl as Hermione. 

Ron looked up. The walls seemed to go on forever. The ceiling was not visible, but it had to be there, since the room was very hot. The Death Eater who accompanied Ron and Draco entered the room. From this side, the purple portal looked like an ordinary door. However, after the last wizard stepped inside, the opening seemed to have vanished. 

aaaaaaaaaa

The door to their cell opened with no previous warning. A masked wizard stepped inside - a Death Eater. He was carrying a tray of food in one hand, and held his wand ready in the other. Sirius rose to his feet, preparing to jump the wizard. Not taking any risks, the Death Eater mumbled a curse. A jet of grey light came shooting out of the tip of his wand, hitting Sirius' legs. Sirius fell on the flagstones, unable to sense anything but the pang blowing where the curse had hit. A second later, the dark wizard fell, too, sending the food tray clattering to the floor. 

Severus Snape stepped into the cell, his tiny eyes running to all directions inside their sockets like scared little black mice. He picked up the Death Eater's fallen wand and tossed it to Mundungus. "Unbelievable, how you managed to overtake him _all by yourself_" he exclaimed. "You should get out of here now," he added in a low whisper. "The house is almost empty. There are nine guards left, including me and him." He prodded the stunned Death Eater with the toe of his boot. "Your wands are in a desk drawer in the room right above you." 

"Where are Harry and Hermione?" asked Arabella. 

"They're not here any more," Snape answered curtly. "I'll draw you a map." 

The pain in Sirius' legs began to subside. He was able to see again beyond the cloud of blinding agony. The sight that penetrated his brain via his eyes surprised him. He looked at Snape. "You did this?" he grumbled. 

Snape nodded. 

"You could have done it before he hexed me," groaned Sirius through gritted teeth. 

"Yes, I could have," agreed Snape. He went out of the room, leaving the three to make their plans for escape. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Including Ron and Draco, there were about fifteen Death Eaters in the room. They all stood in a circle around the green and silver altar. Hermione made no move except for her laboured breathing, and Ron seriously doubted she was conscious. 

Voldemort stood by the altar, scanning the circle around him. His sudden silent appearance made the dark wizards gasp. Some of them looked like they wanted to run away, but didn't dare. With the dark lord, by his feet, appeared a large, intimidating snake. 

"We are here for a very festive occasion," began the Dark Lord. His hiss, albeit very low, was well heard by everyone in the room. "Today, a young wizard from one of the ancient wizarding families is about to join our ranks." Ron's stomach lurched when he realized he was the wizard in question. "Come to me, boy." Voldemort raised his hand, signalling Ron to approach him. When he was in arm's reach, Voldemort closed his fingers around his wrist with the clamp of a steel-vice. 

"I know you all have doubts littering your loyalty," continued the Dark Lord as he held Ron close to him. "You all saw the Potter boy today refuse to die once more." He viewed the gathered wizards one by one, making them all cast their eyes to the floor in fear and shame. "But you also witnessed him get a taste of my rage." The hissing became a roar like an approaching hurricane. His eyes shone with yellow ardour. "He is not resistant to all curses. Soon, we will break the spell that temporarily protects him against this one specific curse." His slit-eyes regained their red dullness. "But now, more pleasing events are at hand." 

Ron felt himself being pushed towards the altar. Hermione looked up at him. Apparently, she was not unconscious, just very still. "You were sly enough to provide us with this Mudblood," Voldemort complimented him. Hermione's eyes were two brown pools of caramel - sweet and slightly scorched. There was no pleading in them, just deep, primal fear. "You will now have the honour of casting your very first Avada Kedavra curse on her. Then, you could become one of us." 

Ron looked at him, shaken. So it had come to this. Either he would kill Hermione, or he'd refuse and get killed himself. It was a difficult decision, but one he was prepared to make. 

Voldemort misinterpreted his hesitation. "Don't be afraid, my boy," he said, grabbing Ron's wand hand and helping him aim it at Hermione. "Nobody expects you to make it on your first attempt. Just give it your best try. You can make as many attempts as you like, she's not going anywhere." He released a dry chuckle. 

Ron relaxed a bit. If he wasn't expected to be able to master the curse on his first attempt, then there was no reason he shouldn't fail on his following attempts as well. All he had to do was pretend to be tired after failing enough times, and ask to try again tomorrow. Then, they'd have the night to figure out what to do. 

Ron aimed his wand at Hermione. His hand, that was very steady up to this moment, started shaking. Not big, wavy quakes that would raise Voldemort's wrath. Just tiny shivers that made the wand tip create minute circles over Hermione's navel. "There are other things I'd rather do with her," he muttered. 

"Unbelievable, this Mudblood!" squealed Lucius from his place in the Death Eaters circle. "She's got my Draco infatuated with her as well." 

The stare Draco had fixed upon his father for letting out his secret could easily compete with the dangerous glare he himself received from Ron. 

Voldemort's face split up in a condescending smile. "So both youths want to play with her a little." He stalked over to Hermione and gave her an appraising look. Hermione shut her eyes against the hideous view. "Yes, I can see why our future generation finds her attractive." He placed a long, pricking finger on her forehead, and moved it slowly towards her chin. Hermione felt as if he was slicing her face in half with an icicle. When he reached her chin, he jabbed his finger under it, making her tilt her head backward as much as the neck strip allowed, which was, actually, very little. 

"Very well," he said. He turned to Ron, forcefully grabbed his left arm, and without further warning placed his wand on Ron's forearm, hissing the words of an ancient spell. "_morsmorde corpus sculper_". 

Ron had a sensation he had never felt before. A wave, which was comfortably warm and stimulatingly cold at the same time, was formed where the wand had touched him, and was rapidly spreading all over his body. He shivered slightly. He closed his eyes and allowed the pleasant wave to pass before remembering where he was and whom with. He shivered again, for a different reason. 

Ron had seen the Dark Mark on Draco, Harry, Snape and a few others during their stay among the Death Eaters. The mark felt almost familiar now, and still, seeing it branded on his own arm had a strange effect on Ron. More than anything right now, he feared his mother's reaction to the new development. 

Voldemort had lost interest in Ron. He mumbled a spell over Hermione. In response, the metal straps that held her pinned to the altar all popped open. They were instantly replaced by thin ropes, which tied her wrists and ankles together. He signalled one of the larger masked wizards to approach. "Put her in the cell with Potter," he commanded. "He won't come around for a long time." 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Four down, five to go." 

"You're counting Snape?" 

"We need to get through him as well." 

"But surely he won't put up a fight." 

"Don't bet on it," muttered Sirius bitterly. "And anyway, we have to stun him too, or they'll suspect him." 

"You're right." 

"And we need to beat him up. You know, to make it look real." 

"We didn't need to beat up this one." Arabella pointed at the last fallen guard, who was left behind them as they moved along the corridor. 

"Well, we don't mind if they'll suspect him, do we?" moaned Sirius. "But we do care what happens to Snape. Believe me, it's for his own good." 

"I think this is it," whispered Mundungus. He stopped in front of a door painted fluorescent yellow. 

"Well, open it. You're the one with the wand." 

"_alohomora_" 

"Padfoot, Don't just walk into a room, check it first." 

Sirius ignored her warning. The room looked deserted enough, and there was no sign of wards. He circled the only desk in the room, and reached for the drawer. "Wow!" 

"What?" Arabella and Mundungus could not conquer their curiosity before Sirius' stunned expression, and jumped to his side. "Wow!" they called concurrently. 

There were wands in the drawer. Nothing unusual or impressive about that. It was their number that caused the trio to stand there with their mouths hanging open. The drawer was magically enlarged to contain more than its physical volume. It was very deep and the wands stood in it, held in thin rectangular boxes. Thousands upon thousands of wands, all peeping from the top of their boxes. 

Arabella put her hand inside and began moving it an inch above the tips of the wands, waiting for the familiar tickling sensation of her wand. It took several minutes, but eventually she found it tucked in the depth of the drawer. Mundungus was next. It took him approximately the same time to find his wand, which was the one closest to them. When they both held their wands, Arabella and Mundungus cleared the way for Sirius. Sirius took a step back, held his arm stretched forward, and said, "_accio wand_". His wand jumped out of the drawer and placed itself in his palm. 

"Show off," muttered Arabella. 

Sirius gave her his most charming smile. "Let's go," he said. "We still have five dark wizards to overtake before this house is cleared." 

"Four." 

"Four to overtake and one to beat to a pulp." 

Arabella wanted to protest, but Sirius chose that moment to launch into the parlour and attack one of the three Death Eaters that were standing there. Arabella and Mundungus were not caught by surprise. They were used to Sirius lashing out the second he recognised the enemy. They shot out right behind him, sending impeding curses at anything that didn't run away fast enough. 

The three death eaters put up a reasonable fight, which gave Snape and the last guard time to respond to the racket that was well heard all around the house and join the struggle against the three escaping prisoners. 

Several minutes later, Arabella went between the fallen guards, waving the smoke away from her and assessing their condition. Much of the furniture in the room was stunned senseless. Beside this damage, there were four guards in deep coma, and one in deep coma who was sprouting tiny dog-shaped hair marks all over his face. "Sirius Black!" she exclaimed. "What have you done -" she stopped her scolding very abruptly. 

Her attention, as well as the others' was directed to the main door of the house. Very quietly, the three spread along the wall beside the door, waiting to see if the noise coming from behind it was a real person, or just a figment of their imagination. No more sound could be heard. They were about to declare themselves insane when the door suddenly blew clear off its hinges and fell a few feet away from the portal with a loud crash. 

The three jumped in front of the open doorway, their wands pointing forward ready for action. The two wizards in the door also had their wands drawn, prepared to put them to immediate use. 

Sirius cut the curse he was creating in mid-word. He let his wand drop an inch lower, and cleared his throat. Then in a more hesitant tone, he asked, "Moony?" 

aaaaaaaaaa

It took her the better part of an hour, but finally, Hermione was able to loosen the ropes around her wrists. With a violent pull she removed the remainder of the rope and turned to attack the ones binding her ankles together. There was urgency in her motions, despite the fact that she'd been at it for so long, and though she knew there was no real emergency. Harry had been lying there, motionless, from the moment she was thrown into the dungeon, and there was no reason his condition would change now. 

She tossed aside what was left of the ropes after her relentless assault, and scooped Harry into her arms. He was completely limp, and with the lack of his cooperation, he was also quite heavy. She laid his head in her lap and hugged him to the best of her ability, as if trying to shield him from the rest of the world. The tension that was building inside her during the time she was wrestling the binds burst out in a series of body-jerking sobs. She tightened her arms around Harry's motionless body, seeking comfort in her own act of vain protection. 

Something unexpected made Hermione's weeping cease. She sat completely still, trying to feel it again. Sure enough, it came - the slightest movement from Harry's direction. This wasn't just his breathing. This was more of a voluntary motion. She straightened up and looked down into Harry's emerald green eyes. 

Harry felt a jolt passing through his body, and then another. He opened his eyes. Someone was holding his head in a firm hug. By the smell of honey and daisies, that someone was Hermione. She released her hold, not letting go of him completely, and detached herself from him just enough to look into his eyes. Her own eyes were red and swollen. 

Harry reached out for her and stroked her hair. "How long have you been crying?" 

"Oh, not very long," Hermione answered. "But I was very serious about it." A bashful smile played on her lips. 

Harry didn't feel particularly strong, but he was strong enough to pull her closer to him. It was especially easy since she showed no objection. His hand was on the nape of her neck, holding all of her hair but a few soft strands that fell over his face. He could feel her breath, or rather the lack of it. Their noses collided, stopping their lips from meeting. They both tried to tilt their heads to the same side, and then to the other. After several attempts they were actually successful in putting their mouths to each other's, but by then their mouths were too busy with embarrassed laughter to be able to kiss. 

"I'm sorry," Harry said after Hermione sat straight again. "I shouldn't have tried this. I know you're with Viktor Krum -" Her odd look made him stop talking. 

"It was as much my fault," Hermione said in a detached tone. "And anyway, I broke up with Viktor just before we left." 

The awkward moment just turned worse. Harry had nothing to say to this that didn't sound like probing. 

"What happened to you?" Hermione asked, both because she was trying to break the silence, but also because she simply wanted to know. 

"Nothing," Harry answered quite foolishly. Hermione struck him with a look that made him burst into another fit of laughter. His laugh sank rapidly into a pang in his chest. 

"What is it?" Hermione asked as she saw Harry press his fist to his chest. 

"It's probably just a little cut," he answered. "It's where the curse hit." 

"What curse?" She watched Harry swallow hard. He didn't offer her an answer. Realisation dawned on her. "Is this why You-Know-Who said that he failed again in his attempt to kill you?" Harry nodded. "Was this the - Avada Kedavra curse?" she choked over the question. Harry nodded again. 

"How were you able to escape it?" 

"I have no idea." Harry shook his head. "For some reason it caused the same Priori Incantatem effect that occurred when I used my wand against it." 

"But you didn't have your wand." 

"No." 

"Then it's not possible. Only twin wands cause that effect. If you didn't have a wand, how could it happen?" 

"I don't know." 

Hermione prodded Harry to sit, and moved slightly away from him. She measured him thoroughly. With this comprehensive examination, she could see the blood on his chest, making his black robes look wet. There were tiny bits of ash all over his front. "Take your robes off," she ordered. 

"What?!" 

"I said, take your robes off. I want to see your wound, and I think I have an idea what was it that saved you." Her lips curled to form the beginning of a playful smile, which she wiped off immediately. 

Harry knew that determined look on her face. He knew he was about to lose the argument, and didn't feel like going through its full length before doing so. He unbuttoned the neck studs and pulled the robe over his head. The stretching motion made him groan with pain. He folded into a ball and bit his lower lip. 

Hermione placed the robes behind him and tenderly rolled him onto them. She did her best to ignore the Snitch that was flapping on his boxer shorts, although she had the urge to reach out her hand and stop its rapid flight. She noticed that the wizard chasing it bore a disturbing resemblance to Harry. 

"It's not me," mumbled Harry, following her gaze. 

"Who's not you?" Hermione tried to look innocent, but her flushed face betrayed her. Her blush was replaced with unhealthy pallor as she unfolded Harry's arms, and exposed the wound underneath. 

There was a deep gash across his chest, right above his heart. It was still bleeding, although Harry was no longer rapidly losing blood. She thought she could see rib bone peeping from the deepest area of the cut, but she wasn't sure. One thing was certain - It had the shape of a lightning bolt. 

"So, you're going to have another one of those," she tried to joke, mainly to keep herself from fainting. Harry dared a look, and turned a sickening shade of white. He took a few deep breaths to relax. Hermione tore off the cleaner hem of her robes and used it to wrap Harry's chest. The improvised bandage stopped the bleeding completely. 

"This actually hurts less," Harry made a feeble attempt at a smile. 

Something caught Hermione's eye as she tied the edges of the bandage over the cut. Something was glowing on Harry's skin. Hermione touched it, and looked at her hand. She had gold and red powder on the tips of her fingers. She looked frantically around, but saw nothing. Without realising she was doing so, she pulled Harry's robes from underneath him. 

"Ouch!" protested Harry, but his protest died when he saw the shocked look on Hermione's face. She was making an effort to release something that was tangled inside his robes. Eventually, she pulled it out. It looked like a thin stalk with few shining red threads attached to it. 

"What is it?" Harry asked. 

"Exactly what it looks like!" Hermione breathed. 

"A straw that was left with the red laundry for seven years?" Harry tried. 

Hermione didn't look amused. "No," she said. "It's a torn up, scorched phoenix feather." 

aaaaaaaaaa

"What are you doing here?" demanded Sirius, lowering his wand further. 

"What do you _think_ we're doing here?" grumbled Remus. "You went without saying a word… left a message that you'd be back yesterday afternoon… I was worried." He took a deep breath. "We saw the blasts inside from our observation point and ran here as fast as we could." 

"Well, we had to leave in a hurry, and you were -" Sirius looked at Lee. "Busy." He took a step into the room. "We had to stop that Skeeter woman from publishing whatever it was Voldemort wanted published." Lee winced to the sound of the name. "Oh no," groaned Sirius. "I guess it was published yesterday, wasn't it?" Remus nodded reluctantly. "Do you have a copy?" 

Remus pulled the folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his robes. "It's not very pleasant," he warned. 

"Well, and I expected Voldemort to say something nice," mocked Sirius. His sardonic smile evaporated as he scanned the Daily Prophet article. "That's bad," he said, dispirited. He passed the paper to Mundungus. "That _could_ explain a few things, though." 

"So I take it Harry is here," stated Remus. 

"What?" jumped Sirius. "How do you know?" 

"Because you didn't ask how he is taking it. You're always so worried about him. If you didn't know he's not at Hogwarts, you'd have asked about him." 

"Is Ron held here too?" Lee intervened. 

"Not exactly," said Sirius. "From what Harry told me, he is posing as a Death Eater. But -" 

"What?!" cried Lee. He strode to the centre of the room and looked around. "I'm taking him home right now. Where is he?" 

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," muttered Sirius. "None of them is here. Harry and Hermione were taken someplace else, and I think Ron and Draco are the ones who took them." 

"Draco? As in Draco _Malfoy_? What's he got to do with this?" 

"Apparently he's been helping them. I have absolutely no idea why." 

Remus shrugged. "Whatever. We'll take him with us too, but I can't promise anything about the state of conscious he'll be in." Both he and Sirius smiled at the thought. "So, where do we find them?" 

"Snape here told us he'd draw a map." Sirius approached Snape's unconscious form. He was lying on the flagstones in a somewhat grotesque posture. The dog-shaped hair stains on his cheeks were already half-an-inch long. Sirius kneeled by his still body and started searching his pockets. The others stood by and watched him. 

Finally, Sirius found what he was looking for. He pulled a small package out of Snape's chest pocket. The package was wrapped several times with a large piece of parchment. He pocketed the inside of the package, and unfolded the parchment. It carried a crudely drawn map. Sirius stared at it, then turned it by ninety degrees and stared at it some more. 

When he turned it again, Remus stated his annoyance, "Oh, just give it to me." He snatched the map from Sirius' hand. A brief look was all he needed. "All right," he announced. "We have about two hours walk ahead of us. Is everyone up to it?" He looked specifically to Lee, who wasn't used to such missions, and had already needed to rest often during the one-mile walk back to the house. 

The reservation came from an unexpected source. "Sirius has injured legs," announced Arabella. "I don't think he could -" 

"I'll be just fine, thank you," Sirius cut her off. "Let's go." He went out the front door and stopped a few yards away from the house. He really had no clue which way to go without Remus' navigation. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione rolled the battered feather between her forefinger and her thumb. She raised her eyes to Harry. "How did it get into your robes anyway?" 

Harry opened his mouth to say that he didn't know, but he suddenly remembered how the feather could have found its way to his robes. "I was in Dumbledore's office. Fawkes was moulting. He was about to combust. He stood on my shoulder seconds before he did it. He was shedding feathers all over the place. One must have caught in my robes." 

Hermione nodded. The explanation sounded, albeit improbable, true. "Harry, this feather saved your life," she said. "But this isn't enough to stop the curse. Did you try to use any magic?" 

"Not exactly," Harry muttered. "I did say 'expelliarmus' or something like it." 

"Well, that must have been it." Hermione looked at his chest again. In a closer look, it was covered with fine red-golden powder. "Were there beads of light, like the ones you told me about last time?" 

"No, no beads," said Harry. He was very aware of her gaze on his bare skin. "It didn't start in the middle, like last time. The spell started on my side. It was as if I had lost the battle before the first bead appeared." 

"Oh," said Hermione. "At least there were no dead bodies in your closet." She reached her hand to take some more of the powder, but got more than that. As her hand touched Harry's chest, he placed his hand over it, pinning it to him. Hermione could feel the beating of his heart under her palm. It was strong and steady, although a little too fast. She had a sudden urge to listen to it directly, and that's exactly what she did. She put her ear over his heart and listened. 

She didn't have a chance to do it for long, as Harry held her upper arm and pulled her up. She found herself inches away from his face, her heart rate closing in on his rapidly. This time there was no awkwardness in their kiss. Their mouths found their way to each other's, their lips connecting in an unbreakable lock. 

Things were very easy on Hermione. Since Harry was already undressed, she allowed her hands to roam his back and shoulders freely. She noticed that without the concealing school robes, his shoulders looked much wider. Harry had his hands on Hermione's waist and he felt that with a bit of an effort, he could surround it with his fingers. 

They rolled on the floor kissing and fondling each other, lost inside each other's warmth. Hermione found Harry's kisses different than anything she had experienced so far. Draco's kisses were harder to control, but they came from someone she despised. These were closer to Viktor's kisses in their warmth and feeling, but they were so much more. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself fully to the unreal happiness that was transferred to her through his lips. 

Their passionate interlock was broken with a loud blow coming from upstairs. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Ron passed the next several hours in a cloud of haze. From time to time he rolled up his sleeve and looked at his newly branded mark. Every time he looked at it - every time he thought of it, restored the wonderful sensation he had when it was burned on his skin. He felt sick to his stomach by this sensation. He would have much preferred it if the mark had caused him unbearable pain. 

Draco spent some time with his socializing, but was mainly standing right by Ron, keeping an eye on him, worried that his new situation might cause him to do something desperate, like cutting off his hand. If that happened, everybody would know Ron was not a real Death-Eater, and then they would know Draco had betrayed them. Draco had no intention of letting that happen. 

Lucius Malfoy approached the two and placed paternal hands on both their shoulders. "Don't worry, boys. The banquet is about to begin, and after that you will be free to play with your Mudblood. I suggest you take turns," he said very seriously. "It could get embarrassing if you're both with her together." He winked at Draco. "Take it from me." 

At that moment, the flames in the hearth changed their colour to green, marking that there was someone on the way. Every eye in the room was turned toward the fire. 

Even Voldemort stopped listening to Dr. Simon Branford's grovelling and watched the swelling flames. "Are we expecting anyone?" he hissed at Dr. Branford. 

"Not that I know of, Master," said Dr. Branford and lowered his head with submission. 

As the preliminary signs indicated, a moment later, one woman stepped out of the hearth, letting the flames abate behind her. She was a woman of average height, but that was the only average thing about her. Ron immediately decided that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long black hair, curled in thick corkscrew curls that came down to her hips and created a wonderful contrast to her milky-white skin. Her eyes were large and cat-like. He could not make up his mind as to whether they were green or blue. She was wearing a tiny leather outfit that hardly covered her most essential assets, and that surely could not have been much good against the cold. In addition to all that, she also looked extremely angry. 

"Malfoy!" she hollered even before brushing the ashes off of herself. 

Both Malfoys looked at her. Everyone else in the room looked at the two of them. Only then Ron noticed that Draco looked particularly pale, and that he was standing a few feet back, as if he was caught in the middle of getting out of room in a hurry. "Run" he mouthed at Ron, while he himself was pinned to the spot. 

Ron stepped closer to Draco. "What's wrong?" he asked in a whisper that was drowned in the murmur of the other Death Eaters. 

"That's Saitaina Moricia," whispered Draco back. His voice was trembling. 

"You attacked me, Malfoy," Saitaina was closing in on Draco, and it was now very clear to which Malfoy she was referring. "You stunned me, and left me in the communications centre locked up and wearing this!" She pointed a disgusted finger towards her leather skirt. "Why on earth did you turn my clothes into this?" 

Every Death Eater in the room had drawn out his wand and pointed it at Draco. Voldemort had completely abandoned his conversation, and commenced taking small steps towards the two shaking boys. 

"I thought this would look nice on you," Draco smiled nervously. "The others were right behind me. I had to stun you and hide you so they wouldn't kill you." 

"Yes," Ron supported Draco's story. "Harry Potter would have killed you if he knew there was a Death Eater in the house." 

"You could have told me that instead of stunning me!" Saitaina glowered at them. 

"There was no time," explained Draco. "I didn't want to take the chance that you would start screaming when you heard that Potter was coming. It would have risked your life." 

"Then why didn't you enervate her before you left?" demanded Voldemort. By now, he was standing very close to the two boys. He was the only wizard in the room who did not point his wand at them, but he held it with a firm hand. 

"We couldn't," stammered Draco. "Potter and the Mudblood didn't let us out of their sight. I think that by then they were suspecting that we were your servants." 

"Are you a traitor, Draco?" asked Lucius Malfoy. His wand, like everyone else's, was pointing at his son. 

"No, Father," breathed Draco. 

"Liar!" rasped Voldemort. "You know Potter would never kill her. He didn't kill Pettigrew, he wouldn't start his killings with a petty communications clerk." Saitaina scowled at being called that. Voldemort turned his back to the two. "Kill them," he hissed. "But make it a slow, painful death." 

The first curse was shot from Lucius Malfoy's wand even before Voldemort was done speaking. It caught Draco in the back and sent him toppling to the floor, biting his lips against the scream of pain. 

Ron dropped to the ground beside him. "Stay down," he advised Draco while warding off a well-aimed curse. "We'll try to crawl out of here. That way less curses can get us." As he spoke, another curse had hit Draco's back. "Come on!" Ron urged him. "Roll over and fight!" 

Draco gritted his teeth, but did as Ron had said. He managed to send several curses back to their initiators, but several others were able to penetrate his defences. He felt weaker with each curse that hit, and every time rendered him less capable of defending himself. He heard Ron cry out beside him, and knew that he wasn't doing very well either. All I wanted was to have a few rounds with Hermione, Draco mused bitterly. It really shouldn't have come to this. 

With another successful curse, his vision had begun to blur. Ron's shouting had stopped, and so had the flashes that had previously shot past him, aimed at Ron. He barely managed to ward off two more curses when the third hit him in the head, and he knew no more. 

aaaaaaaaaa

A/N:  
If you didn't recognise it, the ceremonial room was the same one from chapter #3 (go refresh on it! ). 

All right, so I couldn't kill Harry. I love him too much. But you do realise this isn't necessarily true when it comes to Draco/Ron. I'm not sure it'll happen in the next chapter, but I am warning you - there is someone who will not survive the end of this fic. 

Read? Review!

Thanks to: First and foremost, the wonderful, patient, caring beta-readers who gave meaning to my writing and who had make virtual summersaults to get to beta this chapter. They all went to extreme trouble to overcome my current mail delivery problems: **Dinah**, who yet again is trying to blow up my head, and who thanked me for not putting a cliffhanger in this chapter (guess you don't like Draco and Ron much, huh?). **Isabelle**, who is suffering immensely because of my UK spellchecker, and who's already half-written into chapter 9, and will star alongside Dr. Branford in chapter 10 - watch out for her. **Parker**, who dropped everything to help me, made inhuman efforts, and sent me such worthy corrections that I put off a meeting and updated the chapter. **Jeralyn**, whose remarks I should frame and hang over my bed for reference when I'm down. 

Special thanks to **Ginny Love**, who didn't review (shame on you) but mailed me a very helpful list of the weaker points in this fic. Most of the Draco-pondering in this chapter is due her remarks, as well as more-important less-noticeable changes. 

Longest review award this time (stolen from Al) goes to **Mwalimu**. Way to go! Oh, and you're doing a wonderful job as a Daily Prophet editor in TiP. :) 

**Sanna**: Thanks for making the effort to review. I know how difficult it is. That's why I've begun my little writer's strike. Have to do some catching up. I'm glad you think Draco kissing Hermione is not OOC :). You're right about getting you confused - I'll add the ending of the last chapter from now on. I'm sorry that I've had you confused. I'm afraid you're going to get a lot more confused by the end of next chapter. You'll let me know if this becomes too difficult to follow? Please? Oh, and I owe you an apology - I know I promised to put my theory about James' house in chapter 8, but this was too long as it is (hey, you're the one who's always complaining, in the nicest way, about the length of these chapters). The section is already written into chapter 9.  
**Tessie**: kill Lucius? Hmmm. Interesting notion. I'll give it serious consideration.  
**Banana Republic**: All right, so this chapter had it's sad/emotional moments as well, but I promise you lots of laughs in the next chapter. :) Your faith in my goodness is remarkable, but don't be so sure of anything. Er... I thought I mentioned how Harry got his mark. All right, I hope this chapter set is straight. If not, let me know. I don't like keeping loose ends. I can't seem to decide about this fic's ship either .  
**Megan**: Thanks! I had no intention of killing him evil grin.  
**Amanita Lestrange (AKA Pipin)**: I can't believe I just now realised you're Pipin. How thick can a girl be? Good job on the Paradise parody :). Glad you liked the conversation with the snake, it might turn out to be more than that. What giant squid? scrolls back to search the chapter oh, that. all right, point taken. Note to self - put more giant squid in story. :)  
**suzzy**: Saved him, and it had nothing to do with the MQ. I'm glad you didn't find the MQ thing too childish.  
**Cassandra Claire**: yeah, it would be difficult to make it Harry/Draco if Harry's dead winks. So, does that mean that DS is about to turn in that specific direction? I'm afraid the slash here is going to remain only as an indication (less subtle in this chapter) and I meant the Harry/Ron scene to be the slightly slashy one sulks. Do you actually read all the 'thank you' notes? That's good, but I didn't think anyone actually had the patience to do it. :) I guess you have to grow remarkable reading capabilities when you get 300 long reviews for each chapter.  
**Noctua (Isabelle)**: That's a great user name. Wish I'd thought of it first . I beg your pardon. My Harry not toosexytodie? Honestly, you've got him mixed up with other Harrys. I need to show you my very private sketch of the hot scene between him and Hermione... That was a very cruel joke you pulled on your friend. Served you right that she killed you. So now, you're my ghost beta? :)  
**diddly day**: you should thank Ebony (AngieJ) for the hot H/H scene here. Hope it filled your storage for a while.  
**GinnyPotter**: ROFL. Got the hint. Well, I said someone's going to die... No promises made. Harry's living had nothing to do with his MQ, but I'm glad you didn't find that notion silly. Thanks for the zealous review!  
**dagan**: first of: If you've been trying to contact me, something was terribly wrong with my e-mail, and nothing came through. Now everything's fine, so you can try it again. :) careful where you point those germs! Of course I catch your drift, or, might I say, you caught mine well. (apologies to anyone who's reading all the 'thank you'-s) Harry's MQ had nothing to do with his save, but I'm glad the MQ-thing caught up and didn't send you irritated to someone else's fic .  
**Mwalimu**: Great cameo in TiP! Thank you so much for making huge attempts to help my writing. I really appreciate it. Naturally, I've made all the corrections you suggested, and as always, your explanations opened my eyes. Thanks! And thanks for the enthusiastic review as well.  
**magicallittleme**: Well, that was a passionate plead for Harry's life . Your request for D/H was registered. Currently, you're on the winner side.  
**The Game**: That's a very interesting plot you suggest. Hmmm... too bad my a/plot is already planned to the rest of the story. You'll just have to wait and see.  
**Lizzy/Tygrestick**: you're the main reason I regret not squeezing some of the next chapter here, to help you relax a bit. I'm really sorry, but it just didn't work. ;)  
**Katie**: smile ship preference registered. You are in the minority, however.  
**RatheraMutemwiya**: Hee hee. Sorry for not obliging you by killing Harry. Well, if you like Malfoy (which one?) you're going to have a few nerve-wrecking weeks (or not...)  
**Macbeth Wanda Cauldrina**: Wow. Thanks. Between you and Dinah I'm going to get sooo big headed. Hope you survived this long chapter as well. Thanks for making the effort of reviewing past chapters.  
**Angel**: Thanks for making the effort of reviewing past chapters. Your roaches review just went to my "most hilarious reviews" list. You've stopped reviewing after that chapter, did this point bother you that much?  
**The person who hates you me very much now**: Luckily, I'm not paranoid, so your review went to my "most hilarious reviews" list as well. :) I hope the cliffhanger this time doesn't break you completely. I promise no major cliffie next time.  
**The Great Hermione Fan**: Am I making it easy on Draco? I didn't mean to. Well, we'll see if he survives another chapter. evil grin  
**AngieJ (AKA Ebony)**: Wow, reviewing all the chapters! You're the greatest! Well, who would have guessed you're a H/H? Oh, right, EVERYONE, captain! The H/H scene in this chapter is dedicated to you. I have a quick doodle based on it, but I'm not sharing . What is OBHWF? I've registered two H/H votes for you, but you're still in a minority.  
**Burrow Gurl**: You still write the sweetest reviews. Makes me feel really bad to leave you with cliffhangers. I promise next time won't be half as bad. I hope this chapter answered your 'Ron as a Death Eater' question.  
**Ice Dragoness**: (if you're still with us) Thanks for reviewing previous chapters, and you're guess was right. I hope you found that out by reading the remaining chapters.  
**Kat**: Your vote was registered, but I hate to say it - the D/H voters are currently louder. (Which means nothing, actually).  
**Al**: There is nothing I can say about reading chapters late. I still have ToT in my pilot, waiting it's turn after TiP6, and I'm dying to read "Snitch!" after seeing that pic. Guess my reviews will come in extremely late. 'course, if ASA13 comes out, they'll be delayed even further. Did I mention I'm on a writer's strike until I've read them all? I'm so glad you liked the MQ thing. Coming from you, it's very reassuring. I only notices that the 'Mad Quill' has the same acronym after I've named it. Odd coincidence. Oh, I'm afraid I'm beginning to lose that Draco you loved so much. I hope he doesn't disappear all together. Drop me a note if you feel he does.  
**Stark-raving-loony**: hmmm... you're right, it can't be a 'Harry Potter' without the Harry bit. But this fic doesn't have Harry in the title... No, I couldn't kill Harry. Not just yet, anyway.  
**Hermione the goddess who changed her name from Draco's Girl**: Oh, well, Draco never meant to save Harry. All he wanted was Hermione... I thought you liked him.  
**Bernie the chio**: That's so sweet, still up at 10:20pm. Well, since I'm writing this usually between 2 and 5 am, I guess being dead tired is the only right way to read this. :) Thanks for losing sleep over my story!  
**Perdu Ame**, **Tualha**: I have! I have! Thanks for taking this so intensely. Now, all you have to worry about are Ron and Draco.  
**Circe**: Thanks for letting me know which points you liked and which you didn't much care for. It's reviews like yours that help me create better chapters (or at least I hope they do )  
**Elyssa**: Eek... Sorry, guess the name is a bit misleading. You're actually the first person who'd voted H/K. you're also the only person who voted on killing Harry. No... wait... there was RatheraMutemwiya with that vote as well. Sorry about that too. You are, however, in the majority with your D/H vote. :)  
**Amanda**: Nobody likes it when the bad guys win. The entire Hollywood industry is based on that . Thanks for the compliments!  
**Landry Anne**: Ah, your D/H vote was registered, but if you need a good fic with D/H ending, you can go read some of Sanna's stuff in the mean time. You can find one of her stories (the wonderful 'The Prince's Bride') in my favourite stories list. More D/H stories can be found in Sanna's egroup (yahoogroup now grunt) hp4ever. Happy birthday!  
**Becca**: I'm honoured to be the reason of your de-lurking. You should do it more often, the reviews are what keeps most authors writing. You should also make your H/H vote sound more often, since the D/H people are leading the race.  
**Lana Mavi**, **Danika**: What a dramatic entry! I loaded my author's page to upload the new chapter, and found your reviews. What a nice surprise! **Lana Mavi** - you don't have to plead for Harry's life so ardently :) Your D/H vote was registered and added to the majority of the votes. **Danika** - You've raised several interesting issues. Much food for thought. Thanks! And thank you for the compliments. Guess you won't have to wait very long this time. BTW - I'm an extremely slow reader, which is why I never read my own story :) I really need my betas. Good night! 

23


	9. The Powers That Be

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 9**_

_The Powers That Be_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Phoenix Lee D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Ron and Draco were left in a less than comfortable position, but don't worry! Harry is back and he's armed with a - feather?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
This chapter is for **Dr. Simon Branford** (Aka PigwidgeonowlfriendofHedwig) and **Benjamin Gryffindor** (Aka Jaffa), who are willing to answer my endless questions.

aaaaaaaaaa

The end of chapter 8:  
With another successful curse, Draco's vision had begun to blur. Ron's shouting had stopped, and so had the flashes that had previously shot past him, aimed at Ron. He barely managed to ward off two more curses when the third hit him in the head, and he knew no more. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Harry! Something's going on up there!" Hermione wriggled out of his arms and sat bolt upright, pointing at the ceiling. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair ruffled, but she seemed to have forgotten her previous activity, and gave her full attention to the continuous sound of blasts that shook their dungeon prison. 

She watched Harry sit up as well, looking somewhat disappointed. "I think that Ron and Draco may be in trouble," she said in an attempt to shake him out of his dazed state. That worked better than she had expected. Harry jumped to his feet and approached the dungeon door. The little Seeker on his boxer shorts jumped to attention as well. He watched with interest as Harry unsuccessfully tried the doorknob. 

"It's locked," he said, no surprise in his voice. 

"Try using this." Hermione held out the battered phoenix feather she had found in his robes. 

Harry took the thing that was more a stalk than a feather and tried to stick it in the keyhole. 

"Not like that," scolded Hermione. "Use it like a wand." 

Harry gazed at her and then at the object in his hand. It was nothing more than a crooked twig with a few red and gold threads hanging from it. "This is not a wand," he said in a sombre voice. 

"Harry, you used it to ward off the Avada Kedavra curse! It doesn't get more magical than that." Hermione almost shouted the words. The explosions heard from above them came at a nerve-wracking rate. "Just try it," she implored. 

Harry pointed the remainder of the feather to the door, and without much conviction said, "_alohomora_". 

Nothing happened. 

"You see, it doesn't work. This isn't a wand." 

"Of course it won't work if you don't believe it will. Remember how long it took you just to transfigure a match to a needle? You've got to believe you can do it." 

Harry remembered his first Transfiguration lessons well. Hermione was the first in the class to make that magic work. He was the last. Well, next to last. There was also Neville. He just hadn't believed he was really a wizard. He raised his hand with the thread-decorated straw and pointed it at the door. "_alohomora_," he said in a manner as effective in its quiet manner as an approaching tsunami. 

The door flew open, taking the guard who'd been standing outside with it. 

"That was lucky," Harry said, stepping over the unconscious masked guard. He noticed that Hermione wasn't with him, and wheeled around in search of her. He thought she was the one in a hurry. 

"Er - Harry," Hermione said from the inside of their open cell. "You'll probably want to put your robes back on before we charge to the rescue." 

Harry turned deep scarlet. _Better than to have found out later_, he told himself, but that wasn't much consolation. He took his robes from Hermione and pulled them over his head. The clotted blood made the front of the robes stiff and rough against the skin of his chest. At least they were no longer wet. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Padfoot, are you sure you're all right?" 

"Yes, Mummy." 

"Sirius. I'm not joking." Arabella stepped in front of him, blocking his way. "You don't look too good." 

"Don't make me stop," Sirius moaned. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get started again after I stop?" 

"Then don't. Stay here," she practically begged him. "We'll get the kids and come back for you." 

"You've heard what Remus said about them having some kind of gathering. You're going to need me if you want to get the kids out." 

"You will be in no condition to help us!" She was annoyed to the verge of shouting. "We will be getting into hostile territory any minute now, and then we'll have to carry you!" 

"You will not have to carry me," Sirius growled. He pushed Arabella aside and resumed his laborious walk. He mutely cursed Snape, gritting his teeth against the pain. _Why couldn't he have come in a moment earlier, before the guard shot his legs? It was just like Snape._

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry led the way with Hermione close on his heels. They ran up a steep staircase that seemed to drag on forever. They eventually emerged into the side of a corridor. Harry stopped short, unable to decide which way to go. He kept jumping in one place, adrenaline rushing in his veins. 

"Left!" called Hermione, and ran right past him. He followed suit, and almost ran into her back when she stopped in front of a heavy oak door. "Here," she gasped. "This is the lounge that's attached to the ceremonial room. I think the explosions were coming from here." 

Harry gave her a dumb look and made an effort to listen. So did she, but the blasts that shook the entire construction had now stopped. Harry touched the door with his feather residue. "_Alohomora_," he whispered. 

The door opened with a bang, revealing two figures sprawled on the floor, surrounded by an inconceivable number of Death Eaters. There was no mistaking the pair on the ground. Red hair on one, platinum blond on the other. Some of the Death Eaters were pointing their wands towards those two, but most of them turned to face the opening door and had their wands aimed at Harry and Hermione. 

Harry drew back and hid behind the wide doorframe. Hermione was cemented to the spot, and so he dragged her with him. He propped his head against the wall and gave the stalk in his hand a bemused look. "There are too many Death Eaters there to fight off with a straw." 

"A phoenix feather." 

"Whatever. At least Voldemort isn't here." 

Hermione winced at the sound of the name. 

Harry dared a peep into the room, and used the opportunity to release a curse inside. "It seems that Ron and Draco gave them quite a fight. There's a group of hurt Death Eaters in the corner, and I just saw another one being dragged there." He shot another almost blind curse into the room. "This thing actually works," he said, amazed, raising the battered feather. 

"Of course it works." 

Two Death Eaters came running out of the door and got a taste of Harry's curses point blank. They both fell to the floor, unconscious. 

Hermione bent over to examine them. "They're alive, but barely," she said. She picked up the wands the two were carrying, keeping one and handing Harry the other. Harry took it with thanks, but pocketed it, and kept the feather ready. He offered Hermione an embarrassed smile, but she gazed at him gravely. "Harry, what curse did you use on them?" 

"The stunning curse," Harry said, a little surprised by the question. "Didn't you hear me?" 

"As a matter of fact, no," stated Hermione. "You didn't say anything." 

"Sure I did." Harry stepped over one of the bodies and released yet another curse into the room. Two more Death Eaters came running out, and met the same fate as the first two, only now Hermione had a hand in it. "Didn't I?" Harry asked, beginning to doubt his own sanity. 

Hermione only stared at him. 

Harry took another peek into the room, but this time no curse left the tip of the feather. 

"What happened?" asked Hermione. 

"It's - he's -" Harry stammered. A loud explosion shook the building, and then another and another. They were all coming from inside the room. Harry stepped in front of the open door, and just stood there, watching. 

"Are you mad?" Hermione hissed at him, but she noticed that he remained standing, unharmed for several seconds. _Has he become immune to all curses_? she wondered. As she thought that, a few more explosions were heard, and she was sure Harry wasn't responsible for any of them. Not that she thought he wasn't capable of creating a full-scale explosion. By now she was willing to believe practically anything about him, but he just looked too stunned to have done so. 

She stepped up beside him and bathed her eyes on the sight in the room. Many of the Death Eaters were now lying on the floor, taken completely out of action. The others faced a small group that were coming through the room's other door. Hermione understood Harry's expression. The invading group was composed of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lee Jordan, Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher. The latter two she'd met on yet another one of Harry's brushes with death. The five were giving the remaining Death Eaters a living hell. 

Harry snapped out of his state of shock and joined the fight, and so did Hermione. With their help, the battle was soon over. Six of them rushed to the prone figures of Ron and Draco. They were bleeding horribly, but were still alive. They were hit with so many concurrent reviving spells that their bodies jumped as if they'd been galvanized. 

As Arabella tended to their wounds, Harry looked around for Sirius. He let out a strangled scream when he finally found him. Sirius was lying by the door, blood pooling under his legs and his entire body limp and seemingly lifeless. 

Arabella followed Harry's frenzied dash with her eyes. She felt a chill going through her when she saw what it was that made him shout. Somehow, she wasn't surprised. She knew Sirius couldn't hold on with his wounds. She was amazed that he'd managed to get this far and even help with the battle. 

Arabella sighed and fastened the bandage over Ron's arm, taking measure of his new Dark Mark in the process. That was his last visible gash. Draco was already on his feet, searching woozily around the room, but there was no sign of either his father or Saitaina. Arabella gently turned Ron over to see that she hadn't missed any wounds. When she felt he was reasonably fixed, she went over to Harry and Sirius. 

Sirius had somehow managed to regain semi-consciousness, and was foolishly trying to sit up. Arabella pushed him back to the floor, not being very gentle about it. Harry jerked forward and caught Sirius' head just before it hit the flagstones, as Sirius lost consciousness again. 

Arabella removed Sirius' blood-soaked bandages and applied new bandages to his legs. That helped stop the bleeding. 

Harry knew Arabella was very familiar with medical spells. "Why don't you cure it with magic?" he asked. 

"That's a curse wound. I need to know the exact counter-spell to stop it." She sighed. "It's not a very sophisticated curse. If he would just lie back for a few hours, it'll go away on its own." There was a great deal of anger in her voice. "Come on, help me put him on one of these couches." She took Sirius' legs and waited for Harry to grab his upper body. They loaded Sirius onto a leather lounge by the fire, making sure his legs were raised. Harry sat by him and waited. He rubbed his scar as a useless remedy against the bothering ache it seeded in his head. 

aaaaaaaaaa

A very slight movement disturbed the stillness of the room. A small, hunched figure moved slowly in the shadows toward what seemed like the darkest area, right at its centre. 

"It is done, Master." 

Something moved inside the dense blackness. Something even darker than the room. There seemed to be someone in there, someone tall and not entirely human. The darkness was pouring out of his sheer existence. "Good, Wormtail. Did you do exactly as I ordered?" 

"Yes, My Lord. They have all escaped. They suspect nothing. They think they did it on their own powers." Wormtail's face could not be seen, but the smirk was well heard in his voice. 

"Good." 

"It was easier than we expected, Master. Potter and the girl managed to escape their cell without our help. All we had to do was to get out of their path." 

"Oh, really?" The words were accompanied by the sound of gritting teeth. "Maybe this was too easy." The master paused, perhaps to consider. "I do not want them to think we are weak. Send some of my minions after them. Order them to aim especially at the Potter boy. Make him hurt, but make sure he isn't killed." 

"Who should I send, My Lord? We have lost quite a few of our numbers in this display." 

"Have we?" asked the master, sounding truly bored. "That hardly matters. Soon, Potter will turn to our side, and then there will not be a single wizard or witch in this country who will fight us. Now go." 

Wormtail left the room the same way he came in, facing the same direction. He made a point of never turning his back to his master. One could never know. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Arabella sat down by Harry, watching Sirius with a concerned expression. "He should have been up by now. He's been out for nearly two hours. I think we have the entire floor cleansed of Death Eaters by now. Maybe he's lost more blood than I thought." She placed her hand on Sirius' forehead, pushing his hair aside, and wiping the sweat off his brow. 

"Don't worry," Harry calmed her. "I've placed him under an enchanted sleep." 

"Enchanted sleep? Why?" 

"Well, you said he needed to rest," said Harry matter-of-factly. "He wouldn't have had his rest otherwise." 

"True," agreed Arabella. "But I think you can remove the spell now." She moved away from Sirius, allowing Harry some room to cast the spell. 

"What's that in your hand?" she asked, as Harry casually pointed what was left of the phoenix feather at Sirius' chest. 

"That?" Harry said, a bit embarrassed. "Er - It's a wand core. Don't worry, it works just fine. _Ennervate_." 

Sirius opened his eyes. He met Harry's gaze and grabbed him by his left arm with brutal force. Before Harry realised what was going on, Sirius used his other hand to slide up Harry's sleeve. Harry's Dark Mark was exposed, causing him to wince. Sirius let go of Harry hand as rapidly as he had grabbed it, and closed his eyes. 

"Tell me I didn't just see that," he breathed. 

"I have no idea how it got there," Harry bemoaned. 

Sirius was so surprised that he opened his eyes to give Harry an incredibly incredulous glower. "Oh, really?" he mocked. 

"This is why I came here in the first place," Harry tried to explain. "I want to find out who did this to me, and why. And I want to know how I can get this removed." He stared straight into Sirius' dark grey eyes, trying to appear as believable as possible. 

"Good," said Sirius with a touch of cruelty in his voice. "In that case, you're coming to Dumbledore with me. If anyone can do anything about this, he can." 

Harry knew there was no chance he was going to Dumbledore with this. Not at the risk of being expelled. But the expression on Sirius' face suggested that now was not the time to argue about it. He gave Sirius a noncommittal nod and moved slightly aside. He was pushed further away by the approach of Remus and Mundungus. 

"Hey Padfoot, finally decided join us?" scoffed Remus. "Or did you decide to park on the leather couch for the night, like in the old days?" 

Sirius chortled. "This does resemble the old common room, doesn't it?" 

Harry looked around, surprised. This was nothing like the Gryffindor common room. There were no green lamps and silver snake-shaped decorations in there. Also - "There are no leather couches in the common room. There are overstuffed purple couches," he told Sirius. 

Remus and Sirius exchanged uncomfortable glances. "There are, mind you," came a voice from behind Harry's back. He turned to see Draco standing there, looking somewhat fragile. "In the Slytherin common room, that is." 

"Yes, but Sirius wasn't in Slytherin, was he?" Harry said, refusing to accept the evidence that indicated otherwise. 

Sirius' face fell. "Didn't you know Remus and I were in the same house?" he asked sadly. 

"I did, I thought he was a Gryffindor too -" Harry trailed off. The implication of Sirius' grave expression was beginning to sink in. 

"You didn't really think there was a place for a werewolf in any house but Slytherin?" mocked Draco. He seemed extremely cheerful at the idea that he, Harry's nemesis, had more in common with Harry's beloved than Harry himself. 

Harry was so white he looked like he was about to collapse. "My father too?" 

Sirius and Remus nodded in accordance. 

"And my mother?" Harry stammered. "I thought she was a Gryffindor." 

"She was," said Sirius, as if happy to give Harry a straw to hang on to. "That's why your parents got together only in their last year. Didn't you know they were Head Boy and Girl together?" 

"That, I did know. But what does that have to do with anything?" 

"You can't have both Head Boy and Head Girl from the same house, can you? That wouldn't be fair to the other houses." 

"That should have told you that they're not from the same house," jeered Draco with unhidden glee. 

Harry stepped away from the group. He needed time to consider the new information he had just been given. "Why couldn't he have been a Ravenclaw?" he muttered under his breath. He sat hard on yet another one of the leather couches in the room and sulked. 

Harry was so consumed in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the masked wizards who stole into the room and spread about it. None of the others noticed them at first either. 

In a very rapid motion that took Mundungus completely by surprise, Sirius rammed him out of the way as he jumped from his leisured position on the sofa. He readied his wand as he did so. 

Every eye in the room followed the sudden red light from Sirius' wand to its white-masked target. Lethal curses began flying around, produced by numerous wands and one thing that was once a feather. In an instant, the small quiet space had turned into a battle-zone and evil had the upper hand. 

The curses hit every object in the room - people, chairs, walls, one even hit the fireplace, causing it to produce thick yellow smoke, but mainly, the curses hit Harry. He fought them off well, and had much help from Sirius and Hermione who both stood abreast of him, but there were over a dozen Death Eaters who were completely concentrated on hurting him, and they were reasonably successful. 

Harry was brought down to his knees, which matched Hermione's position. Her legs had surrendered to a vicious curse a moment earlier. Sirius gave them a grim glance, and came to a decision. He still had the package he had taken from Snape along with the map. He took it out of his pocket and opened it. As he had suspected, the package contained Floo powder. 

"Take a pinch," he instructed both Harry and Hermione. "Go to Diagon Alley. The rest of us will be right behind you." 

Harry hesitated for one brief moment, and then took the powder. Hermione followed suit. On wobbly, hurting legs, they approached the fireplace. It was still oozing thick smoke from the curse that had hit it. He let Hermione go first and watched Sirius approach the others with the small bag, as she disappeared in the flames. He threw his own dose of powder into the hearth and stepped inside. As clearly as he could manage, Harry said, "Diagon Alley." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry stepped out of the fire, almost knocking into Hermione as he went. Hermione knew better than to stand in the way when someone was using Floo powder, nevertheless, she stood stock still, dumb with shock and disappointment. The room they were in looked identical to the one they had just left, minus the occupants. They hadn't reached their desired destination, but at least this room was empty. 

Ron came out of the fire, successfully smacking into Harry. Harry took a forced step forward, and fell with Ron on top of him, as Draco came out of the hearth and bumped into both. He just managed to avoid tripping as well. 

"If you're quite done making out," Draco indicated Ron and Harry, "you might consider getting as far away from here as we can." 

"We're waiting for the others," said Harry. He heaved himself off the floor and brushed his robes. That was quite a pitiable motion, considering their shabby condition. 

"They're not coming," Draco stated dryly. "Let's go." He turned towards the door, but was stopped as Harry grabbed the hem of his robes. 

"What do you mean, they're not coming?" 

"I saw the fireplace explode as I left it. They can't use it." Draco brutally released his robes from Harry's hand. "As I said, they're not coming." 

"Maybe they'll use another fire to get here." Harry tried to maintain some hope. 

"They can't," said Draco. His voice now had turned from mere cold to utterly cruel. "If you haven't noticed, we're not in Diagon Alley, despite what your dear godfather suggested. Each fire is set to one destination only. The one we used was set to here. Any other fire they use will take them someplace else." He started for the door again. "That is, if they manage to get to another fire." 

For an instant, Harry thought that he couldn't care less. They were all Slytherins, after all. He felt horrified by that thought, and immediately drove it away. Of course he cared. They weren't any different just because he had found out something about them. Sirius had saved his life enough times to prove that he was no less brave and chivalrous than any Gryffindor. He possessed these qualities just as much as he possessed the cunning and slyness of the Slytherins. And Harry loved Sirius. With all his heart. Even if he was a - the thought was unbearable. 

Harry followed Draco out to the hall. The far wall was decorated with a small window. Outside was completely dark except for a few hovering points of light. A more careful look revealed these to be the tops of several turrets and towers. As many as five of them were visible through the narrow window. Harry wondered how many more this construction held. They were obviously inside a very large castle. 

Draco turned his back on the sight and opened another door, leading deeper into the castle. "Malfoy, you're going the wrong way!" Harry called after him. "To get out, we have to go that way." He pointed at an unremarkable green door by the window. 

"Unless you want to walk all the way home, we need to get brooms first," sneered Draco. "This is the way to the brooms chamber." He kept going in the same direction. 

"Oh yeah?" Harry called after him. "And how would you know that?" 

"I've been here before." The tone in Draco's voice indicated that he didn't want to say anything more about it. 

"Right." Ron grimaced in mock disgust. "We almost forgot you're one of _them_." 

"I _was_." said Draco heavily. "May I remind you that my own father just tried to kill me?" 

"Well, I would too, if you were _my_ kid." Ron pretended to shiver of the sheer thought. "But I would have done so much sooner." 

Surprisingly, Draco didn't lunge at him. He just stared grimly. 

"That was really cruel, Ron," said Hermione. She moved to put her hand on Draco's shoulder. "Forget about it, Draco. Your father only did what You-Know-Who had ordered him to. He's an evil Death Eater -" 

"I'm a Death Eater too, mind you," Draco cut her off rudely. He moved away from her touch. 

"He is," said Ron, without any glimpse of courtesy he'd ever been brought up to employ. 

"So are you!" Hermione shouted. She pulled Ron's sleeve brusquely up, exposing his arm to the shoulder, and on his forearm, was his new vivid Dark Mark. 

It was Harry's turn to glower. "Ron!" he breathed. 

"Oh, what are you staring at?" Ron redirected his assault to Harry. "You've got one just like it. So now there are two of us who need to get this thing removed." He strode after Draco, who was gaining distance from the group. 

Harry took Hermione's hand, and the two of them followed. 

A few curves and turns later, Draco came to a stop in front of an ordinary-looking beech door. "The brooms are kept here," he announced succinctly. Harry reached for the doorknob. "Don't touch it," Draco ordered haughtily. 

"Why not?" 

Draco plucked a hair from Ron's head to loud protest and dropped it on the knob. Harry would have never guessed that a single hair could create such an explosion. It hissed angrily and threw red and yellow sparks in all directions. 

"Thanks," Harry said, thinking that it could have been his hand. "So how do we get it open?" 

"We need a password." 

"That's nice," said Ron. "And what is it?" 

"I have no idea." 

"Great. I must say, Malfoy. This is certainly one of your most cunning plans ever." 

"Shut up, Ron." Hermione was beginning to get annoyed with Ron's bellicoseness. True, Draco was no angel, but he had done absolutely nothing to provoke Ron since they got free, and Ron was being plain nasty. 

"I think that if we all try to spell the door open together, it could work," Draco suggested. 

Hermione approached the door, wand ready in her hand. Ron and Harry took pattern by her. Draco snickered when he saw Harry's beaten feather. "What's that, Potter?" 

"Shut up, Malfoy. It works just fine." Harry glared at Draco, knowing that Draco had a good reason to mock him. "On the count of three. One, t-" 

"Wait!" Draco stopped him. Only then Harry noticed that he still hadn't produced his wand. "It's not that simple. "There's another protection on this chamber. If we break open the door, an alarm will go off." 

"But you just suggested that we break it!" cried Ron. 

"And I still think we should," Draco said quietly. "But we need to be prepared. We have to get in, get the brooms and get out as quickly as we can. With any luck, we'll be out of the castle before the guards get here." 

"And if we don't get lucky?" 

Draco shrugged. He pointed his wand at the door, and waited. 

"One, two, THREE!" 

All four of them shouted "_ALOHOMORA_!" as one. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius watched the fireplace explode a second after Draco stepped into it. He didn't hear the boy give the destination command, and was extremely concerned that he didn't make it. They would have to check the smoking rubble for a body, but that would have to wait. Right then, he had too many Death Eaters to worry about. 

Mundungus etded his way towards Sirius, sporadically firing curses as he progressed. The moment Harry was gone through the grate, the Death Eaters became a degree more interested in the rest of them. Mundungus was careful to avoid the curses - those produced by the Death Eaters, and those Sirius had created. 

"We need to get out of this room," he breathed as he reached Sirius. "Find another fire and Floo ourselves to a more _civil_ place." 

"What about Draco Malfoy?" Sirius demanded. He knew the answer to that question, but wanted someone else to say it. 

"You don't know he's here." Mundungus pointed to the ruins, providing Sirius with what he needed to hear. "Even if he is, we can't afford to stay here just for a body, or we'll have more than one body to worry about." 

Sirius turned his back to the fight, and pointed his wand at the collapsed grate. "_Wingardium leviosa_," he bellowed. 

"You can't be serious," muttered Arabella from her hiding place a few feet away. "This rubble must be- Wahh!" 

She cut off her reproach as several tons of heavy blocks rose into the air. Even the Death Eaters stopped throwing curses and watched in awe. The raised rubble remained hovering for a few seconds and then collapsed back in great thunder. 

"I didn't see any body," panted Sirius, beads of sweat popping on his forehead and rolling down his temples. "Did you see anything?" 

Mundungus shook his head, the ability to speak still lost on him. 

"Good," said Sirius, "Then we should go." He jumped to his feet and raced out of the room before the Death Eaters fired the first curse at him. The others followed suit quicker than the Death Eaters could react. The first curses shot their way hit the room's rapidly closing door, guaranteeing everybody's safety. 

aaaaaaaaaa

The wards on the door must have been extremely powerful, because it barely rotated on its hinges. Yet, that was enough. It was no longer locked. Unfortunately, the alarm was set off. The walls all around them lit up with a weird azure light produced by thousands of previously invisible tiny torches. The light became a darker shade of turquoise the closer it was to them, pinpointing their exact location. 

Draco kicked the door open the rest of the way. Sparks shot from the wood, but he seemed unharmed. "Death Eater boots were designed for nasty jobs," he explained as the other three fixed puzzled stares on him. 

The open door led to a spacious room. The walls were all lined with brooms of the top class. Harry didn't waste any time. He walked straight to the Firebolts Mark Kappa, took one of them, and stepped outside. Hermione was right behind him, carrying an identical broom. Draco took a bit longer to join them, but he eventually did, another Firebolt Mark Kappa in his hands. 

"What kept you?" Harry asked, somewhat irritated. The turquoise light had grown stronger, and distant footsteps could be heard with vivid clarity. 

Draco opened his mouth to defend himself, but frowned before the first syllable escaped his throat. "Where's Weasley?" he asked instead. 

Harry whirled frantically. Ron was there, struggling to release another one of the state-of-the-art brooms. Harry ran inside to help him. He grabbed the broomstick and pulled vigorously along with Ron, but the broom wouldn't come free. He snatched at another Kappa at random, but despite Ron's help, it remained stubbornly in place. Thinking that the Kappas might have been enchanted, Harry rushed to a different section on the room, and tried to release a broom from there. It was a simple, faithful Nimbus 2001, but it came free, and that was the most important quality he needed in a broom right then. 

"Here!" he shouted at Ron. Ron saw the two brooms in Harry's hand, and rushed to him. Harry handed him the Kappa and kept the Nimbus for himself. They could hear shouts from outside the room. Some of the voices belonged to Draco and Hermione, but not all. 

Without thinking, Harry mounted his broom and zoomed out of the room, missing the door by mere inches. The images that came into view were of Draco and Hermione pushed to the hallway wall, huddled there by a group of threatening Death Eaters. He bent over the handle and rushed into the group of dark minions like a well-aimed bowling ball into the standing pins. And the Death Eaters fell like bowling pins. Not severely hurt, but momentarily out of action. 

"Come on!" Harry shouted at the others. Ron and Draco had already managed to get on their brooms, and Hermione was just getting there, making an obvious but vain effort not to shiver too violently. 

Harry led the way, flying through the castle corridors, the other three close on his tail. They passed several Death Eaters rushing towards the origin of the alarm, unaware that the cause of the alarm was coming their way. Unfortunately, one of these Death Eaters managed to grab the twigs of Hermione's somewhat wavering broom. He skied several feet along the hall, holding on to the tail of her broom, until he managed to make her drop off of it. 

Harry heard her scream and the thud of Hermione's body hitting the flagstones shortly after it. He rounded his broom almost in place, barely missing Ron and Draco who zoomed past him, and then he retraced their route. He saw a masked wizard raising his wand above Hermione's head. He prodded his broom and jammed the Death Eater hard in his mid-section. With nothing to stop his trajectory, the Death Eater was tossed the entire length of the hallway, skidding the last few meters of the way on an unrecognizable part of his body. 

Harry brought his attention back to Hermione, who had staggered to her feet. "Are you able to ride a broom?" Ron and Draco had joined them. They both offered her concerned looks. 

Hermione nodded gingerly. 

"Are you sure? We can ride together," Harry suggested. That sounded like a good idea for more than one reason. 

"That'll just hold us back," Hermione refused reluctantly. She mounted her broom and rose to match the height of the three hovering boys. 

"You shouldn't ride in the back," Draco stated dryly. "I'll ride last, and Weasley will ride before me. You should be second, right after Potter." Then he added with a mutter, "I wish there were more of us." 

"Are you done arranging us?" snarled Ron. 

"Yes, I am," said Draco. His eyes lit with a dangerous grey fire that suggested he should be taken very seriously. 

Ron took the suggestion and assumed his designated position. He had to admit, if only to himself, that it made sense. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"What now?" asked Remus. He was the last one to step out of the fireplace, and assumed the others had already formed a plan. 

"Look around for the children, I assume?" Sirius answered, sounding a tad hesitant. 

"This isn't Diagon Alley, if you haven't noticed," said Arabella. Despite her attempt to sound sure of herself, she gave the impression of being rather frightened. 

"Too much for one day?" said Sirius softly, placing an arm around her shoulder. 

Arabella wanted to sneer at him, but couldn't find the strength to do so. She just sighed. "I don't think the kids are here," she said. At least, she hoped they weren't. She looked at the dark walls, bearing snake-shaped reliefs that seemed to suck every bit of light in the room. They also looked like they were moving, but every time she focused her eyes on a single serpent, it seemed to freeze, while at the edge of her vision others still moved. 

Bronze brackets also designed as snakes held torches all around the room, but there was no fire in them. Arabella wondered if they ever harboured real fire, or if they were placed there just to evince the lack of it. 

"I don't like the thought of the kids running around a place like this," Arabella said. "I think we should go find them." 

"I'm afraid we need to find ourselves first," Sirius said grimly. He looked around him, but stopped at a creaking sound. He turned his head along with the others towards the door from which the sound came. The door opened slowly, until it showed the wizard who was struggling to open it. The wizard held in his hands a large cauldron, from which sickening purple vapours were rising. He was pushing the door with his back, having both hands on the cauldron, and thus had his back turned to the room. When the door was sufficiently open, he turned, and saw the five intruders watching him with their wands drawn. 

Despite the fact that the wizard's hood was drawn back in a casual manner, he was wearing a very formal white mask. "A Death Eater," Lee muttered, hatred creeping into his voice. The Death Eater stopped to consider his situation for no more than a second. Then he hurled the cauldron as far in their direction as he could manage, and dashed out of the room. 

Purple splashes sprayed them all. Sirius and Lee, who stood closest to the door, absorbed the most liquid. They watched the purple smudges, as if waiting for them to eat through their clothes and their skin, eventually realising that the worst that had happened was that their clothes needed a good wash. Sirius exchanged looks with Mundungus, and seemingly they had both reached the same conclusion at the same time, as they both sprinted out of the room, shoulder to shoulder. 

The Death Eater was easy to track - there was a trail of purple droplets leading to him. It took two turns of the corridors before Sirius and Mundungus cornered him. The terrified dark wizard backed up against a wall, dropped his wand and raised his hands in surrender. "Please don't hurt me," he snivelled. 

"We won't," growled Sirius. "We just want to know where we are, and how we get out of here." 

The Death Eater eyed them suspiciously. "If I show you, you'll let me go?" he asked. 

"Yes," promised Sirius. 

"All right, I have a map of the fortress." The Death Eater reached into the inner pocket of his cloak, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath and pulled out a wand. The tip of the wand was shining with a hex as it appeared in his hand. 

Without thinking, Sirius grabbed the wizard's hand and pulled it up forcefully. The curse hit the ceiling of the corridor, and showered them with a mixture of shimmering sparks, dust and plaster. One large chunk of stone dropped from the ceiling and hit the Death Eater's head, sending him cascading to the floor. 

"I think his neck's broken," said Mundungus after examining the fallen wizard. 

Sirius cursed with feeling and kicked the prone body lying on the flagstones. "I shouldn't have dropped a house on him," he muttered. 

"But it seems that he had a map after all," added Mundungus, pulling a folded parchment from the dead wizard's pocket. Both he and Sirius smiled. Mundungus unfolded the map and the two of them watched the markings intently. 

"Hmmm," said Sirius. 

"Hmmm," Mundungus repeated after him. 

"I think we'll be giving this to Moony soon." 

"My sentiments exactly." 

aaaaaaaaaa

The four brooms advanced persistently in the pitch dark, led by a relentless Draco Malfoy. Draco had insisted that he knew the way even, and especially, during the night, and that they had to get as far away from the dark-dominated areas as they could. And so, they flew until the first cold rays of the sun made the crack of dawn. 

Hermione looked down as soon as there was enough light to see what was beneath them. She noticed, with some horror, that they were flying over a forest, only inches above the tallest trees. To her great relief, Draco pointed his broom downwards at the first forest clearing they reached. 

"Where are we?" Harry asked the instant his feet touched the ground. 

"The Forbidden Forest," answered Draco. 

"The Forbidden Forest!" squealed Ron. Images of the last encounter he had there floated in front of his eyes. 

"At least we're out of You-Know-Who's backyard," Draco said coldly. ""We can rest here for a while and then head back to school, we're only a few hours away from there." 

"I'm not going back to school," Harry declared in a voice that dared anyone to argue with him. 

Hermione ignored the warning. "Of course you are," she said, sounding a lot like Professor McGonagall on her third explanation of the same Transfiguration process. 

"No!" Harry said defiantly, and then lowered his tone back to normal. "Look," he tried to explain, "between the accident with Cho, the article in the Daily Prophet, and the fact that I do have the Dark Mark." He stopped to steady his voice before going on. "If I go to school now, I'll be kicked out before I have a chance to say two words." 

"I think Dumbledore will give you a chance to explain," Hermione said, still sounding didactic. 

"Maybe," doubted Harry. "And _then_ he'll send me off. I'd rather come with some proof." 

"Like what?" Hermione challenged. 

Harry sat down hard on the nearest rock. He put his head in his hands, but perked up after a moment. "The Pensieve," he said. "If I bring it with me, it'll prove that I'm still on the right side. Then, Dumbledore may be more willing to listen to my version of the story." 

"What an amazing idea," Draco intervened with a jeer. "Too bad you don't have it." 

"He's right, Harry," Hermione added scornfully. 

Harry seemed to be offended by her mocking tone. "Then I'd better get it," he said with a voice an octave lower than normal. 

"I'm sorry," Hermione said very genuinely. "I don't think that's such a good idea. We now know who snatched you. It was You-Know-Who. And if he's got the Pensieve, then there's really nothing we can do about it." 

"I'm with Harry," Ron interrupted. "I don't see any other way to prove I didn't want this." He exposed the fresh mark on his left arm. "You-Know-Who can't be guarding it himself all the time, he must have it somewhere, having a few Death Eaters to watch over it." 

"We can take a few Death Eaters," Harry joined in. 

"You're unbelievably conceited," Draco put in. "How can you say that without even blinking? Do you really think you're invincible?" 

"He took the Avada Kedavra curse twice!" Ron jumped to Harry's defence. "And from the darkest wizard in the last hundred years. You-Know-Who can't touch him!" 

"I don't -" Harry tried to interject, but the heated argument was out of his hands. 

"He was lucky," Draco told Ron in a voice colder and sharper than an icicle. "He had a core matching You-Know-Who's wand." 

"He didn't have it as a baby!" 

"You don't know that!" 

Hermione sat down by Harry and watched the two boys fight. She allowed her head to rest on Harry's shoulder as he placed his arm around her waist. 

"If you had that core, you'd still be dead!" 

"No I wouldn't! The feather's what saved him. Not some amazing magical power!" 

"Oh, yeah? Wanna bet? I say he has twice your MQ!" 

"You're on," Draco said with a sly smile. 

"Oh, no," Harry murmured. 

"I didn't mean 'twice' literally," Ron retracted, making Draco smile wider. "But I'm sure his is higher than yours. I'll put a galleon on that." 

"Why not make it ten galleons?" Draco suggested. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's your dad's yearly income, isn't it?" 

Harry was quick enough to jump off his tree-trunk and grab Ron from behind before Ron could punch Draco. 

"Do me a favour, Harry," Ron spat the words. "Take this MQ test and show the arrogant Death Eater how much better than him you are." 

Harry shook his head, his mind racing in an attempt to think of a convincing counter-argument. 

"We'll all do it," Hermione said. "Just like we planned to before - everything." 

Harry felt outnumbered. "All right," he relented. 

aaaaaaaaaa

The map showed no less than twenty-six fireplaces and zero exits. Each of the fires had a direct link to some place or other, all sounding as horrible as this place. 

"Where does this fire lead?" asked Mundungus, placing the tip of his wand on the map. 

"This? Hmmm... nocens oculus," Remus answered absentmindedly. 

"Is that good?" Lee asked, trying to conceal his excitement. 

"Not particularly. It means 'evil eye'" 

"Oh. How about this one?" 

"Bone Fragments." 

"And this?" 

"Blood bath." 

"This is rapidly turning into something extremely frustrating." 

"Yes it is," agreed Remus, scanning the map for tiny grates they might have missed. 

"What does this one say?" 

Remus followed Arabella's pointing finger. "Nothing," he said. 

"Nothing?" 

"Yes. It says absolutely nothing about where this one is leading." 

"Then I think this is the one we should take." 

"Maybe what's beyond it is so terrible they couldn't even write it?" 

"Worse than - what's this one? 'Flesh tearing rotating blades'? Somehow, I doubt it." 

Remus looked at the faces around him. Sirius looked indifferent, Lee was trying to control his tremor as Mundungus and Arabella both agreed on the unmarked fire. "All right, then," he said. "It's this way." He folded the map to show only the relevant section of the castle and stepped out of the room. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry smiled to himself. It was unbelievable that despite everything they'd been through in the last two days, Hermione had managed to keep her notes about the weight each of them should lift. Draco was just getting ready, flexing his fingers and wiping his wand on the edge of his robes. Hermione muttered the last words of a spell, and something appeared between Draco and the rock he was supposed to lift. That something looked like a distorted bright blue squid with the figure zero carved on one of his arms. 

"What is this?" Harry asked. 

"This is a very precise timer," Hermione explained. "It sends tendrils to everything involved in the measuring. It'll start the timer when the rock leaves the ground and stop it when it is down again." She turned to Draco. "Is that all right with you?" 

"Looks like a perfectly standard timer to me," Draco said. 

"All right then, begin when you're ready." 

Draco took a few more seconds, aiming his wand at the rock and then lowering his hand several times. Eventually, he pointed his wand at the rock and kept it there. The rock began to tremble and after a few shaky attempts, left the ground. Harry watched the timer as the digits changed - three, four, five - Draco's hand began to tremble with effort - eight, nine - beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Harry had never seen Draco sweat before, not even when playing Quidditch on a hot day - twelve, thirteen - his entire body appeared to be trembling from the muscle tension, but his face remained completely emotionless - fourteen - the rock also began to shake violently - fifteen - the rock dropped to the ground with a thud, stopping the digits tendril on one-five-point-one. Draco collapsed beside it, panting heavily. 

Draco lifted his eyes to the timer and would have jumped if he had the strength. "Fifteen point one seconds? An MQ of a hundred and fifty one? That's impossible!" he bellowed. "I couldn't have lost an MQ point. This timer is defective!" 

"Relax," Hermione scolded him. "You know there's an error margin. Two or three points here and there don't count." 

"All right, then if Potter has less than five points advantage, it counts as a draw." 

"Beginning to get scared, are you?" said Ron. His eyes weren't smiling as much as his mouth. Draco's score was much higher than he had anticipated. 

"Just making sure I don't lose on a technicality." 

"Ron, you're next," Hermione stopped the argument before it became heated. "I've adjusted the weight for you." 

Ron was much worse in disguising his effort than Draco was. Ron never had a problem sweating, and by the time the counter reached seven, his robes were drenched. At nine, both he and the rock were trembling so hard, that Harry considered taking cover, in case Ron lost control over the rock and sent it zooming their way. The rock crashed to the ground a few seconds later, stopping the timer on one-three-point-eight. Ron, despite sweating heavily, remained on his feet, his hands leaning against his knees as he was gasping for air. 

"A hundred and thirty eight," drawled Draco. "Not bad for a Gryffindor." 

"Oh, shut up," Ron panted. 

"I'll go next," Hermione said. "Do you want to check that I've set the weight correctly for my age?" 

"No, I trust you," Draco offered. Not a dash of his previous drawling could be heard. 

Without much pre-arrangement, Hermione stepped in front of her rock, and lifted it with her wand. She dropped it before her muscles began to shake, stopping the timer on one-one-point-two. She sat hard on the ground exactly where she had been standing. 

"A hundred and twelve is not bad for a Mudblood," Draco said, offering Hermione a hand up, and ignoring her glare at his choice of words. "But I think you can do better. You hardly even tried." 

"It's between you and Harry," Hermione said, neither confirming nor denying Draco's observation. She took his outstretched hand and kept holding it even when she was on her feet. "I'd better set the weight for Harry," she whispered. She reluctantly let go of Draco's hand and set to work on the rock. 

Harry swallowed hard. In less than a minute, his magic would be put to the test. What if the Dursleys had been able to stomp the magic out of him as they had intended? What if he scored lower than average? He didn't care about Ron's bet as much as he was afraid that he would be utterly humiliated. 

"Are you ready to show Malfoy what you're made of?" Ron asked as the two of them watched Hermione work. 

"Not really." 

"Don't worry," Ron placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You'll walk all over him." 

"How does it feel?" Harry asked. "I mean, when you're holding the rock up, what is it like?" 

Ron hesitated, not knowing if he should tell Harry the truth and frighten him, or let him find out on his own and then have a nasty surprise at the most crucial moment. He decided to go with the former. "Difficult," he said. "Like trying to lift Hagrid without magic. Those almost fourteen seconds felt like fourteen hours." 

"Oh," said Harry, not putting much feeling into the word. 

"Ready!" Hermione called to them. 

Harry assumed his position and raised his wand. He tried to clear his head of the frightening thoughts of a glorious failure. He made the rock hover in the air without much effort. _That's not so bad_, Harry smiled to himself prematurely and then felt his body jolt with the attempt to keep the rock steady. He tried to watch the timer from the corner of his eye, but that only made him almost lose control over the rock. His back began to ache, and drops of sweat fell from his forehead and singed in his eyes. He fought the urge to wipe his glasses, which were covered with steam. Ron was right - this did seem like a very long time. Every bone in his body was shouting to him to let go of his wand and let the rock drop. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. He made a final effort to make the rock hover even higher, so it would take more time to hit the ground, and collapsed to the forest floor, allowing the rock to fall freely. 

Harry had expected the others to talk about his score, but dead silence hit his ears. He lifted his eyes to the timer, afraid of what it would show him. _If it's less than nine point five, I'll just die of shame_, he thought. Three digits were carved on the tendril - one-zero-zero. Harry breathed in relief. Average. He had held for ten seconds, and he gave it his best effort. He was now officially an average wizard. He didn't know why that made him so happy, but couldn't help but smile. 

The others still looked stunned. "Why are you staring at me?" Harry asked merrily. "Haven't you ever seen a completely normal, average wizard?" 

"What?" Hermione stammered. 

Ron's response was a dull "Huh?" and Draco said absolutely nothing, but he looked a tad paler than normal. 

Harry looked at the timer again. There was something very odd about their responses. Were they so deeply disappointed they had lost the ability to speak? The timer still showed the same result. Nothing too extraordinary about that, except that it was the lowest result among the four of them. "WHAT?" Harry cried, frustrated. 

"It's the -" Hermione began and trailed off. 

"You held -" Ron didn't manage a full sentence either. 

"Weird," Draco made his contribution. 

"So what," Harry said, beginning to suspect that maybe he'd scored below average after all. "Ten seconds is fine by me." 

"Ten?" Hermione shrieked. 

Draco fell to the ground laughing, holding both hands to his stomach. 

"Not ten," Ron said, looking incredulous. "A hundred. You held it up for a hundred seconds. There is no such score. This is a physical and magical impossibility." 

The colour drained from Harry's face. _So much for being normal_. He looked at the timer again. There were still only three digits on it. "You're wrong," he held on to a straw. "See, it says ten. - ten point zero." 

"Harry, there's no decimal point," Hermione said in a very sympathetic tone. "And anyway, we've watched the counter progress, it went through all the numbers until it reached the hundred. There's no mistake." 

"Are you sure the weight was correct?" Harry insisted. 

Hermione nodded her head, but was moved aside by Draco. He pointed his wand to the rock and made it levitate. The timer was reset, and commenced a new count. After six seconds, Draco made the rock land and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "The weight's just fine," he said. "It's you. Something is terribly, terribly wrong with you." 

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione said angrily. "Harry's fine. He's just a little different." 

From then on, without Hermione as a mediator, she, Ron and Draco lashed into a heated argument about Harry's ability and whether or not he was abnormal and needed to be kept locked up for his own safety. Harry ignored them. He found a nice flat boulder at the rim of the clearing and sprawled on it, ignoring the loud voices of the others. _Just the complication I needed in my life_, he thought before dozing off. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Mundungus and I will go first, Arabella, you'll come after us, and Moony, you and Lee will go in last." Sirius gave the orders, still feeling light-headed with the ease with which they had made their way here. They'd only had two incidents, and neither was much of a challenge. "Just don't take too long," he went on. " Get in right after Arabella leaves, there may still be some Death Eaters in the vicinity." 

Sirius handed the small pack to Remus, taking some Floo powder out of it first. He put his hand on Mundungus' shoulder as he tossed the powder into the hearth. They both stepped in, stating "Diagon Alley" very clearly, just in case the fire wasn't pre-set to anywhere in particular. 

They stepped out into a very familiar office, to very familiar people waiting for them with their very familiar wands pointing to their very important body parts. A moment later, Arabella walked into their backs, followed by Lee and Remus. The three joined them in a group gape. 

Sirius blinked first. "Headmaster?" he ventured. 

aaaaaaaaaa

By the time Ron and Draco stopped fighting and managed to convince Harry to get off his boulder, it was already high noon, and none of them had any sleep or food for nearly a day. 

"Are you willing to go back to Hogwarts now?" Draco asked impatiently. 

"No," Harry said with finality. 

"I don't care what you MQ is, you're acting like a grown baby!" Draco lost his cool. "You have no idea where the Pensieve is, and what's worse, you don't know who or what is keeping it there. You'll get us all killed with this stupidity." 

"You are more than welcome to relieve us from your presence, Malfoy," Harry fumed, drowning out whatever it was that Hermione was trying to say. 

"You know very well that I won't let Hermione wander off alone with you two Death Eaters." Draco drawled. 

The idea was so funny, that despite his deep melancholy, Harry burst into a big laugh, accompanied by Ron and some chortling from Hermione. 

"What's so funny?" Draco blinked at them. 

Harry turned serious almost as instantaneously as he had began to laugh. "You," he told Draco grimly. "You're the only real Death Eater here, and you'll come to rescue her from us?" 

"I'm not the only real one here," Draco replied. "May I remind you that you almost killed Cho because your Dark Mark made you do it?" Ron looked from Draco to Harry with shock. He noticed that Harry wasn't moving to contradict him. "Don't look so stunned, Ron," Draco went on with his lashing. "What kept you in the brooms room, huh? Can you honestly tell me that your mark didn't cause the delay?" Ron lowered his eyes and stared fixedly at his dust-beaten shoes. 

"And I think that the fact that my father tried to kill me proves I'm no more one of them than any of you," he concluded. 

"We've heard enough 'my daddy tried to kill me' whining for one day," Harry said. He was angry, he was depressed, he was fed up with Draco raising the subject over and over, and he wasn't thinking straight. 

"Well it didn't bloody happen to you!" Draco shouted at Harry. 

"No, it couldn't have happened to me," Harry said in a voice that could freeze Prometheus's fire. 

Draco realised what he had just said, and winced, but didn't take it back. "We still don't know where to start looking for your precious Pensieve." 

"Actually, I may be able to help with that," Hermione managed to squeeze in a word. The rest of them gaped at her. "I brought a book with me," she began searching her kit bag, eventually drawing out a yellowing tome. "It's about finding magical objects, oh, and retrieving them," she added. 

Harry peeked at the title over her shoulder. The peeling golden letters on the cover read, '_Finding Magical Objects, Oh, and Retrieving Them_'. Harry blinked and turned his attention back to Hermione, who was in mid-sentence, explaining her plan. 

"- and after you have the key to the object you're looking for, you can lock the amulet on it, and it'll take you to the original object. Simple." 

"Oh yeah, and how will you create the key?" Draco sneered at her. 

"It's Dumbledore's Pensieve. I'd say that's pretty unique," Hermione retorted. 

Draco's shoulders sagged. "All right," he said, "But if we get to it and it turns out it is too heavily guarded, we forget about it and return to school. All right?" 

The other three nodded, some more enthusiastically than others. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Ginny sat by Cho's bed in the infirmary. She had told Viktor to take a break, a suggestion which he had accepted, mainly because Cho had gone to sleep. Ginny had been spending much of her time here since Cho had come around two days before. A year with Harry, who had always had a soft spot for Cho, had made Ginny develop warm feelings for the older girl as well. 

Cho was thrashing her arms in her sleep. Ginny used a moist cloth to wipe the wet hair off her forehead. This seemed to have a relaxing effect on the sleeping girl. She kept caressing her face with the cloth a while longer. 

"This is extremely nice of you," said a man's voice, coming from behind her back. 

Ginny jumped, first with a start, and then with great elation. "Lee!" she called, rushing to hug him. "What are you doing here?" She took a step back and examined him critically. "Except for your hair, you seem fine," she declared happily. "Have you found Ron?" Before he had a chance to answer, she sealed his mouth with a kiss. 

"Hmmm... yes and... hmmm... no," Lee murmured in between kisses. 

"What do you mean?" Ginny looked worried as she let go of him so he could answer her question. 

"We've found him," he said, "But then we've lost him again. He used Floo powder to go through a fireplace, and the fireplace was set to a certain location and we don't know what that location was." 

Ginny's expression darkened. "Why didn't you go after him?" she asked. 

"We couldn't. The whole construction collapsed right after Malfoy went through." 

"Malfoy?" she shrieked. 

"Draco Malfoy. It seems that he and Ron were working on some plan to get Harry and Hermione out, and the plan went horribly wrong." 

Ginny's head was swarming with questions. "Working together? Malfoy? Get them out of where?" What where they doing there in the first place? How did _you_ get here? Where is - hmmm" 

She shot question after question until Lee had no choice but to shut her up with a kiss. Lee released her gingerly, only to kiss her again as she opened her mouth to continue the flood. 

"If you keep... mm... asking questions... mm... I will just have... mm... to go on kissing you." 

"That... mm... will be... mm... terrible." 

Their kisses became increasingly passionate. Ginny stumbled to the infirmary bed beside Cho, dragging Lee with her. She had intended to sit on the bed, but almost instantly found herself lying on her back, pressed under Lee's weight, her legs still touching the floor, but only barely. She knew he had a lot to do with getting into her current position, but couldn't remember exactly what, and also, she couldn't care less. 

Lee's stubble scratched the delicate skin on her neck as he worked his lips downwards, one hand caressing her rich hair and the other holding her waist, pressing them even closer together. 

Ginny tilted her head backward and failed to stop a tiny moan from escaping her lips. _This is the way life should always be_, she thought. _There is nothing more important than this. Or is there_. One very plausible option popped to her mind. 

"Ron!" she cried. She sat bolt up right, pushing Lee away from her. "Where's Ron?" 

"Right," said Lee while willing his heartbeat back to normal. He tried to push his dreadlocks backwards, completely forgetting that he didn't have them any more. 

"And what happened to your hair?" Ginny added with a grimace. 

Lee told her everything from the moment he went up to Dumbledore's office to the moment they found themselves back at the same office, leaving out the fact that Ron now had the Dark Mark. 

Ginny tried to make sure she understood everything. "So Professor Snape notified Dumbledore that his office was linked to You-Know-Who's network, and all the professors were waiting for you there?" 

"Yes." 

"And what did they say when you came out instead of Death Eaters?" she asked as she glanced at the sleeping Cho. 

"They thought we were Death Eaters disguised with Polyjuice Potion." 

"And they held you at wand-point for an hour?" 

"No. Apparently there are strong spells that make it last for longer. Sirius took Veritaserum to prove to them that we were really us." 

"Really? Sirius took Veritaserum?" Ginny had a wicked smile. "Tell me what he said." 

Lee matched her smile. "When I left, he was just busy declaring his undying love to Arabella." Lee laughed at his mental image. "You should have seen him try to gag himself." 

Ginny thought that was rather romantic, and told him so, to which he responded with a steamy kiss. A tawny owl that landed on his shoulder stopped them from taking this kiss any further. 

Lee took the rolled up parchment from the owl, who fluttered his wings twice, and disappeared through the window. 

"It's from Oliver Wood," Lee mumbled as he read the note. "He says he went to see Percy about standardisation for racing brooms." Lee stopped talking in order to read on. "He encountered something in the Ministry. He wants to show it to me personally. He asks that I Apparate to his place right now." 

Lee put the letter down. "Ginny, this sounds serious. I have to go." 

"I don't like this. Let me come with you." 

"You can't. You don't have your Apparation licence yet. From his letter, it sounds urgent." 

"You're right. You should ask Professor Lupin to come with you." Lee looked hesitant. "You went with him when he needed help," she pressed on. "And you know you can trust him." 

"All right!" Lee raised both hands in the air. "I'll ask him," and he kissed Ginny one, long, lustful kiss and left. 

A few minutes later, when Viktor Krum stepped back into the infirmary, he found Ginny just as he'd left her, gently wiping Cho's face, looking only a bit more flushed than he remembered. 

aaaaaaaaaa

It took Hermione no more than an hour to prepare the amulet, and would have taken less if the others hadn't insisted on helping her. It pulsed in a soft silvery light pointing eastwards, and that's where they were going, heading towards one of the less travelled trails of the forest. 

_A mere moment before the group passed there, Neil Ward crossed the path, wearing nothing but his knickers, on which, embroidered in golden threads, was a flying Ford Anglia. The car, suffering from a severe tree-fixation, was utterly intimidated by the woods. It was unsuccessfully trying to hide in the silk lining of Neil's knickers. All this did not concern Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron, as they arrived a moment too late for the spectacle. They did, however, encounter the creature that was making Neil escape unclad through the woods._

A/N: Relish the moment, because this is the last piece of underwear you'll see in this fic 

The four of them stopped in mid motion when they spotted the creature. It was standing in their path, indifferent to their presence. Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably. The white creature noticed the movement and turned to face them. 

Hermione made a visible attempt to conceal her smirk. Ron and Harry made no such effort. They snickered happily at Draco's embarrassment, until the furry thing jumped on Hermione. 

"Augh! Get it off me!" she cried. "It's hurting me!" 

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry laughed. "It's just a ferret." 

"But it's biting me!" She shook her arm vigorously, but the little white creature held on with its teeth and refused to let go of her finger. 

Draco came from behind her and put one strong hand around her waist. With his other hand he held her arm steady, so she could no longer shake it, and then led it slowly towards the ground. The minute the creature's legs touched the ground, it released its grip on Hermione's finger and dashed towards the trees. They could hear it gaining distance, crunching the forest's vegetation under its feet. 

"You all right, Hermione?" Draco asked after the two of them straightened up again. He still held her in the restrictive manner he used before, and raised her bruised finger to eye level. "You're bleeding." 

"It's nothing," Hermione said, well aware of his proximity. A whiff of carnations and mint filled her nostrils as she pulled away from his arms. She held her breath for as long as she could, not to let go of the scent. 

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Harry, giving her a concerned look, while flashing a glare at Draco. 

Before she could answer, the ferret emerged from between the trees and stared at them from a few feet away. She and Draco made a small, strangled sound. 

It took Ron and Harry quite a while to convince the other two that the little ball of white-yellow hair was harmless. They had to admit that they, too, were annoyed by the fact that it followed them, but they were willing to pay that price to see Draco acting hunted. 

During the daylight hours, Harry kept a distance from the rest of the group. The argument they'd had in the morning still echoed in his head. Then, the sun dropped behind the trees, and shortly after, it became so dark that they had to light up the tips of their wands to see the trail. 

Several times Harry found himself alone in the woods with only the ferret's pink eyes to keep him company. Each of these times he felt a cold hand squeezing in his chest before he managed to catch up with the group. "What do you say we stop for the night?" he suggested the next time he spotted them. 

The other three agreed immediately. They were all pushed beyond exhaustion, and were just waiting for someone else to bring it up first. They sat at the edge of a clearing and had small rations from the dry food Hermione so smartly brought with her and then turned to arrange a campsite. Ron and Draco used large stones to create a circle for the circle-ward charm, while Hermione worked to clear the inside area. Harry just sat with his back to a tree-trunk, his legs folded to his chest and his head resting on his knees. He kept his eyes closed, shutting the rest of the world outside his mental self. 

A small light shone over his head and forced Harry to open his eyes and look up. The holder of the lit wand was hidden in the shadow, but his voice was very well heard. "Don't you think the all-mighty wizard should help move the rocks?" Draco sneered. 

Harry lifted his wand and made a few stones fly in the air and join the forming circle. This act won him the worst look of contempt he ever got from Draco. 

"That's great," he drawled. "I think you should form the rest of the circle the same way while I go look for water." He turned his back to Harry, trying to decide which way to go. 

Harry heaved himself from the forest floor with some effort. His heavy heart seemed to have added weight to the rest of him as well. He gently pushed Draco from his way, as he moved towards the circle, and then it happened. 

A black sphere swallowed the two of them. It was the same sphere that had isolated them from the rest of the world twice already. Harry pulled his hand away hurriedly. The sphere only faltered, but remained intact. He could feel the fear that filled Draco magnifying his own sense of horror. Draco's inside chill poured into the sphere, and with the lack of warmth from Harry's side, the temperature around them was rapidly dropping. 

_What now?_ he thought to himself. 

_We try to move apart and see what happens, I think_, he heard Draco's voice in his head. His eyes opened wide and met Draco's silver sneer. _Yes, Potter, I know what you're thinking and might I add, I never knew you felt that way about Finch-Fletchley._

"What way?" Harry grumbled out loud. He wasn't even thinking of Justin. He was trying very hard not to think about his last time alone with Hermione. As always in such cases, this was the only thing he could think about. 

_I see_, Draco thought in a manner that made Harry's blood curdle. He took a step back to where the sphere did not exist, causing it to shatter. Only when it was gone did Harry realise he had felt Draco's presence inside his head. At least he was sure the other boy could no longer hear his thoughts. Immediately, he was able to stop thinking of Hermione. 

Draco's eyes were still boring into his soul as he said, "I'd better search for that water now." With a blink of an eye he was gone. 

Harry trudged towards Ron and Hermione, only to hear Ron stating that he would go look for water. Harry didn't bother telling him that Draco had gone with that intent as well. "Step out of the circle," he ordered Hermione in a low voice. 

Hermione seemed like she wanted to say something but rethought it when she saw Harry's state. She simply moved away from him and stood by an already built section of the stones setting. 

"A little further," Harry said. 

Hermione took a few more steps back, until Harry signalled her that she was far enough. He raised his wand and began moving the stones around the campsite. At first, he only raised a few of them, sending them into a little odd dance, but soon the dance developed to a full scale tornado that was centred around Harry. 

When the storm quieted, and the cloud of dust finally sank, Hermione couldn't recognise the place. White stones created a perfect circle a foot tall, surrounding a completely clear patch of grass with Harry standing in its centre, his hair and cloak grey with dust. 

She stepped over the new circular fence, wanting to reach him, but before she had both her feet inside the patch she saw Harry collapse to the grass. She ran to him and held her lit up wand above his head, afraid of what that outburst of magic might have done to him. To her relief, as she sank to her knees beside him, he held out his hand and touched her. He was alive. 

Harry propped himself on his elbows and pulled Hermione to him. Hermione was tired and worried and did not resist. She buried her face in his chest and made herself comfortable. She felt his hand playing with her hair, separating each tendril and smoothing it, only to make it jump right back when his hand reached its end. At some stage, Harry placed his other hand around her shoulder, but she was only half-aware of that, as she had fallen asleep. 

aaaaaaaaaa

The boy sat on a fallen tree trunk a few hundred yards from the camp. He looked around him to make sure he was alone, when he saw the little ferret watching him. He smiled a crooked smile and continued his scan. Aside from the pesky creature, he could see no one. 

He pulled up his sleeve and looked at the vermilion mark on his forearm. The snake seemed to slither out of the skull as he rolled his hand from side to side. He played with it a little before pressing his finger on the mark. 

The mark immediately turned black. The boy twisted his face with pain, but he kept at his preparations. He gathered a few twigs in front of him, and with his wand, set fire to them. The Dark Lord's head appeared in the flame, turning it to a bright shade of green. The boy kneeled and bowed his head before the presence of his Master. 

"Yes," Voldemort said impatiently. "What do you want?" 

The boy raised his eyes timidly. "My Lord, I have interesting information for you concerning Harry Potter." 

The head in the flame perked up. "Talk," he ordered. 

"I saw him take an MQ test, master. His score was -" the boy hesitated, not knowing what was the best way to break the news. "Extremely high, My Lord." 

Voldemort's serpentine face looked even more sinister as he smiled. "I suspected as much," he said. "All the better. More force to us when he switches over to our side." He noticed the boy's distress and added, "How much did he score?" 

The boy lowered his eyes and his voice shook as he said, "A thousand, Master." 

Voldemort's smile faltered. "A - thousand?" he hissed, astonished. "That's -" he looked for the right word, but couldn't find one. "Unusual," he settled eventually for the most suitable option. "This makes it even more crucial that the boy is turned." 

"I'm doing everything I can, Master," the boy said hurriedly. "It is complicated -" 

"I do not want to hear excuses!" The Dark Lord said in his shrill voice. "Use Aude Centeno to help you." 

"Who?" The boy forgot to state his submission. 

"Me," said a feminine voice by his ear. The boy turned to look. Where the ferret had sat, there was now a beautiful girl, a year or two older than he was. He blinked at her. "Didn't you suspect I was an Animagus? The way I stayed around you all day?" she sneered at the boy, who only shook his head. 

"Do you understand what needs to be done?" Voldemort addressed both his minions. 

"Yes Master," they answered in tandem, and the boy added, "Get Harry Potter to kill someone, and leave the rest to you. It will be done, My Lord." 

"Good," approved Voldemort. "And preferably, he should kill that Mudblood he is travelling with. That will make his conversion so much easier." 

"As you wish, My Lord." 

The smile returned to the Dark Lord's hideous face. "I thought you fancied her," he said, testing the boy's reaction. 

"I did, My Lord, but I don't any more." 

"Very good," Voldemort was pleased with the response. "Is there anything else?" 

"Just one more thing, Master," the boy said hesitantly. "How is Saitaina Moricia?" he slurred. 

"Not dead," Voldemort said, and fading from view he added, "Yet." 

aaaaaaaaaa

A/N:  
So, who is it? Could it be one of the boys travelling with Harry? Ron? Draco? Or maybe there's someone else who's following them around? Viktor Krum? Dr. Simon Branford? G Find out next chapter (or not. mwhehehe) 

All right, for nine chapters, I've taunted you with the pairings. No more. I've made up my mind, and in the next chapter you're going to find out who's Hermione's chosen one (yes, _she_ is the one who makes that choice, and about time that she does). I'll use this and the few remaining chapters to toy with you concerning who's about to die. You will fear for practically every one of the main characters. If this gets too nerve wrecking, drop me a note. 

Read? Review!

The 'thank you' section is becoming rather long, and I can't even begin to describe how grateful I am about it. I've tried to make it easy for you to find your name, so you don't have to plod through the entire section for your bit. 

First and foremost, the ones who give writing FanFiction a meaning - my wonderful betas (by order of returning my mail G): The insightful **April** who made me rewrite half the chapter, **Pippin (Amanita Lestrange)**, who jumped in when I thought I was deserted, and had me re-write the other half, **Isabella**, who will call herself ferret-girl from now on, and does wonders to my confidence, **Jeralyn**, who turned out to be a professional (I'm using forced labour now), **Parker**, who can read my mind, and always knows what's behind my typos. 

**BananaRepublic:** Well, no cliffhangers this time. I didn't kill Draco or Ron this time, but that means nothing. I like writing adventure/mystery more than romance, but this story is mainly romance. Well, I'm still learning.  
**Hermione Granger Weasley:** Oh, you're waiting for the chapters. That's so sweet. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting even longer this time. The rest of the chapters will be posted more regularly. Well, it's hard to resist the H/H charm when most good authors write H/H stories.  
**Saitaina A. Moricia:** You've got so many reviews dedicated to you! Only two tiny references to you here (your official protest was registered G) but I promise more of you in chapter 11.  
**Icer:** I'm glad you liked it. I place the '' in the middle so you can take breaks. :)  
**LunaLuv:** thanks for squeezing me in :). I hope you're release from your captors (i.e. grounding parents) soon. Well, Ron and Draco would have kissed in the closet if this was the slash version. There was definitely something between them. :) Voldemort is a sad, sick person. Glad you caught that! Don't apologise for not reading the story. It's for your enjoyment. Read it if you want, not because you have to!  
**Harry Shipper:** Well, I have to admit your review left me puzzled. I'm extremely flattered that my writing caused you to be so excited, but you'll have to repeat the request after you've taken a few deep breaths. :)  
**Lana Mavi:** Hmmm...I'm not telling who gets Hermione's heart. That's in the next chapter. There were a few hints in this chapter, but then, again, you can't really trust my hints... :) Well, you got your wish. No cliffie here. Next time, though...  
**reader:** I'll step on it. :)  
**Danika:** Ooh, you have no problem killing off almost anybody! :) Well, you'll find out soon enough who it is/they are (never said I'm going to kill only one). It seems only common courtesy to answer notes people leave off for me. :)  
**Kit:** I'm glad you still see it as soap. Go read AngieJ's 'Trouble in Paradise'.  
**Amanita Lestrange (Pippin):** Well, you're also in the beta credits, but as fro your review - the feather was planted there long ago. I'm glad you liked it. :)  
**Ginny Love:** I've completely lost track of your names, sorry! I'll still be very happy to get your picks. Just don't have my head off for what I did here. I know it wasn't very conformist G.Saitaina was very happy to hear that she's got a "kick - ass villain name" Lol! My Simon not only grovels. After what he said about my daugher, plus his odd review, he's going to do a lot more in the following chapters. You have to make up your mind - do you want Harry 'whacked' or do you want Harry/Draco slash? :) I'll make you a deal - for every ten picks you get me, I'll write two pages of whatever ending you want, just for you. How's that?  
**magicallittleme:** Wow, your's was the third review that called me to kill Ron! I didn't know he was that unpopular. I kinda like the idea of Ron/Hermione, but not in this fic.  
**Heather Michelle:** Well, I couldn't kill Harry. Not like that, anyway. No promise there...  
**Lizzy/Tygrestick:** Hey! Glad you joined us over the HPFanFiction list! I'd like to hear why you don't like Ron. Is that because he's between Harry and Hermione in the canon?  
**Amanda:** If Draco is beginning to grow on you, that's good enough reason to kill him. You're the last one left with me in the we-hate-Malfoy fortress. Don't give up on me! BTW - You now officially hold the record for the shortest review ever. :) What's the matter? giving you a hard time? Thanks for making repeated attempts.  
**Indy:** Tanks for taking the time to review!  
**Elyssa:** Hmmm... you certainly have an original view point. A Viktor / Hermione / Draco triangle... Odd, very, very odd... Latest I've seen from Cassie, was a H/D, but not the H you'd like :).  
**Landry Anne:** Thanks! If you like D/H so much, you have a lot in common with Sanna, who writes these stories. She's also the listmom of hp4ever, which is mainly a collection of D/H stories. You might want to go there.  
**diddly day:** thanks! I hope you liked this one too. The three remaining chapters will be out in a more regular manner.  
**Elle:** You've read good R/H fics? Where? I want some too! The only good R/H I know is TiP, and that's not really R/H either. There are plenty of D/H. Just go to Sanna's page. You'll find all the needed references there. Anyway, D/H is definitely an option here.  
**Crystal Music:** Er... when the chapter ended, Draco was about to die because he tried to save Hermione. I'm not sure he could care for her more than that. BG H/H is also still an option. Next chapter this issue will be resolved.  
**Mwalimu:** I'm always so happy to see a review from you. It's a little celebration! You've got the ability to point out both the strong and the weak points. Very, very helpful. The type that was corrected was Parker's doing. I've had horrible mail problems, and I stupidly thought she gave up on me. Her beta managed to get through a few minutes after I posted the chapter. The improvement you see is not me - it's the increasing number of betas I work with. Thanks all the same!  
**RatheraMutemwiya:** You're disappointed Harry's alive? Oh, dear. Well, he might still die in this fic. It is also possible both Malfoys survive this story, although I'd be very happy to rip them apart in "real" life G. My Lucius is not a child abuser. He is a womaniser, but aren't all man? :)  
**moi:** well, you got me thinking. The chapters are very similar in length, and I'm not going to change this, but there are plenty of '' - places where you can take a break. After all, I don't read other author's long chapters in one sitting either shudders at the thought of sitting in front of the computer for the 11 hours it took to read the wonderful DS13  
**Sarah:** If you feel so strongly about all of them surviving this story, you might want to stop reading at this stage VBEG. The name of the chapter is 'Birds of a Feather', which indicates Ron's Dark Mark - just like the other heroes. It's also a pun on the phoenix feather, but, well, you don't have to like my humour. I realise that the names I give don't always make sense (where's Krum?) but I like them :)  
**Phyllia:** Thanks! Not having a ship is the right way to read this story G. I'm glad H/H works for you, I hope I can make other ships work as well (no hint here, I could mean Ginny/Lee, Krum/Cho, etc. etc.)  
**:D:** (that can't be your real name! G) Well, of course I'd kill Death Eaters here, but that's hardly worth a warning, is it? One or more of the major characters is going to die. Makes me really sad, but that's the way it is.  
**GinnyPotter:** Well, I have considered what Ron's death would do to Harry. Have you considered what Harry's death would do to everybody else? I'm not saying I'm going to kill either of the two (not saying otherwise, either). I'm just saying - be prepared for every possibility. I you haven't enjoyed any H/H fic, then you haven't read Cassandra Clair's fics. She's a fantastic writer, and you should give her stories a go. Oh, and feel free to get that off your chest. Your rant really makes me smile. You know I'm a R/H at heart. You don't like Lee's new haircut? He got it just for you! Actually, he's in all these chapters just because I needed a good excuse to get him the haircut you requested! You make a good imitation of a 'normal' review G.  
**Ebony AKA AngieJ:** Thanks! I turned beet red reading such compliments from an English teacher! So, what's 'Anglophone'? G. Was glad to provide you with the H/H scene, and I can't wait for TiP8. Where is it? Where is it?  
**Burrow Gurl:** No cliffhanger here. I'll give you a rest for the duration of one chapter. :) I'm very married, to a wonderful guy, so no problem finding a Valentine. Better luck next year! Actually, we both spent the entire day listening to the news about the casualties in a terrorist attack that morning, but I woke up the next morning to a mailbox full of reviews, so I felt a little better :).  
**Silence Unheard:** Thanks! No promise about the H/H thing, though.  
**heidi tandy:** Hmmm... I don't know if my Lucius is as evil as yours, but he's not a nice guy, that's for sure. :). The transitions are not easy. I think half of my writing time is spent of the last paragraph of each scene. Yours gives the impression of being smooth too. You can say that again about my speed :). I still have 48 pages of SoC7 to read while I wait to see if anyone removes me from AuthorAlert (one just has, this morning :( ). Where do you keep your Evil!Lucius list?  
**Draco Skywalker:** I forwarded your review to Saitaina, and she liked it very much :) She's mentioned in this chapter, but she'll be back big-time in chapter 11.  
**Unicorn Chick:** I love Ron. At least I think I do. And I hate Draco... I'm confused, I think. Or maybe not? It seems that almost anyone who reads this story wants Ron dead. Well, good thing there's no vote on this one. Not saying that Ron'll survive, just happy in general.  
**stark-raving-loony:** Oh dear. I had you confused with someone else, who offered to beta via e-mail. I only found that out when I sat to write the 'thank you' section. Oh, I can't believe I could've had another beta for this chapter, and missed my opportunity. Your e-mails were extremely funny and helped restore my mood after I've had a horrible flame, but I thought you were joking! Grrr... I will definitely send chapter 10 to you. Thanks, and sorry. As for your question - Harry will have to face Voldemort, because none of them is dead yet. I don't know if it'll happen in this story... All right, I know, but I'm not telling. :) As a beta, you'll read about it a week before anybody else BG.  
**me, myself, and(no, not Irene) I:** That's a great contra to the flames I got for the long chapters. I'm glad you represent the other side. :) No cliffie this time, but embrace yourself for the next chapter. The improvement in the English is just an illusion created by the increasing number of beta-readers this story has. These days, wherever I go, there's a line of exhausted beta-readers behind me :)  
**Al:** This may sound a little pompous, but I think that if my English is improving, it's mainly because I read your stories. I think that the way you have with words is unmatched in fanfic world. It's true poetry, but in the good sense of the word G. Stop apologizing when you can't read a story! If you enjoy it, great. If you have better things to do, well, then do them. I forbid you to go on strike! I can live without 'Snitch!' (although I don't want to, if I have a choice in the matter) but I need my regular fix of ToT. I have the UK version of the books. Using a UK spellchecker is so much easier. Closer to canon, too (yeah, as if the spelling in the canon-consistency problem with this fic). What was stolen from you was the 'longest review award' idea, not the award. You never had that. You did have a longer review than Mwalimu's but Ginny Love beat you both. You're right about Voldie and the DE. I see them as a well organised terrorist organisation - sort of a small military. Oh, this is long. I do hope you read this section :)  
**Just me:** short and sweet. Only three more chapters to go. I almost always finish a job I've started. Just takes a while. :)  
**Auri:** no cliffie here! See? I kept my promise. Next time there will be one, though.  
**Emma:** Hermione/Ron, Ginny/Harry are the right canon ships, but I don't think it'll work here. Sorry!  
**Hopeshelovesharry / R**

43


	10. The Pensieve

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 10**_

_The Pensieve_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Wood Pensieve D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Lee and Remus are out, searching for Oliver Wood. The kids find the Pensieve, and finally realise why it was taken, and by whom. Sirius makes an important discovery that will help them fight the Dark forces. There's a lot of mush in this chapter, so I had to kill somebody to make up for it. Don't worry, this does not end my murderous streak.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
This chapter is for **Dinah**. Even though she didn't have time to beta this, she's still a true friend. It is also dedicated to **Jim Flanagan** who is a wonderful, wonderful man, and to whom I owe many thanks.

**Warning:** This chapter is highly charged with all kinds of emotions. It was extremely difficult to write, and I'm not sure it'll make a "fluffy" reading, if that's what you're looking for. Oh, and there's a cliffhanger. Major. Be warned.

All right, so I took everything from JKR. Is there no limit? Apparently, not. This time, I'm also taking the name of the chapter from her. Toast me alive, canon-zealous people!

**Where we left off:** While the kids are still in search of the Pensieve, someone is informing Voldemort about their every move. The adults (including Lee) had made it back to Hogwarts, after losing track of the kids. After a heated session with Ginny, Lee is called by Oliver Wood, concerning some discovery the latter had made while in the Ministry of Magic.

aaaaaaaaaa

"I don't see why he couldn't just use a fire to talk to me, like he always does," said Lee. 

"Maybe he's afraid someone is listening in on his fire," Remus answered. "He must have something very important to say." He could certainly understand Lee's exasperation. He, too, was completely exhausted, and all he wanted to do was get a good shower and enter an extra-fluffy bed with a warming charm placed on it by someone who knew his business. The long walk towards the end of the anti-Apparation wards that surrounded Hogwarts did not improve his mood. 

"Maybe I should go into Oliver's house alone," Lee suggested, as they neared the edge of the ward. "I don't know if he'll feel comfortable talking when you're there." 

Remus gave him a lopsided smile. "Good thing you brought that up now, after we've walked for almost an hour." 

"Oh," Lee offered his sympathy. " I'm grateful that you came with me. I want you there." He had asked Remus to accompany him only because Ginny had made him, but it seemed that he felt a lot safer with the more experienced man around. "Just give me a few minutes alone with him before you join us." 

"All right," sighed Remus, crossing the ward's borderline. He chose a small rock, and sat on it. "I'll see you there in fifteen minutes. Go." 

Lee hesitated for just one second, and then he disappeared with a soft '_poof_'. The instant he was gone, Remus got up off his rock and started milling around the edge of the ward. He was tired, but not tired enough to sit and rest, while the kid was out of his sight. He kept looking at his watch, but the watch's hand insisted on staying on 'Not Yet'. After he shook it a little, to convince it to show the right time, the watch finally complied, and the hand moved to 'Time to Apparate'. 

Remus didn't even bother to lower his hand before Disapparating away to Wood's home. He resisted the temptation to walk in on the conversation, and chose to Apparate a short distance from the front door. That was too bad, because this way, he was able to see the Dark Mark hovering above the house, large and hideously impressive. 

He rushed to the house, worst-case scenarios pulsing in his head. In his mind, he could see two bodies lying on the floor, waiting for someone to find them. He didn't even consider the option that the dark minion who had cast the spell might still be in there. 

The door to the house wasn't locked, which was lucky for it, because otherwise Remus would have burst it to splinters. He almost breathed in relief when he saw only one body in the foyer. Almost. It was Wood's. Lee was nowhere to be seen. 

Knowing that there was nothing he could do for Wood, Remus commenced a scan of the house. He found Lee in front of the fire in the parlour, talking to someone. Lee acknowledged Remus' presence with a head nod, and continued his conversation. He was talking to a Ministry Auror, and was just about finished. 

"Thank you Mr Jordan. We'll be right there," said the Auror, his head disappearing from the fire. 

"Why didn't you let me know?" asked Remus, angrily. 

"It seemed more appropriate to notify his family and the Ministry first." 

"Yes, you're right, I'm sorry. You gave me quite a start." Remus hadn't felt such a need for a strong drink in years. He put that urge aside, and asked, "Do you know why he was killed?" 

"No." Lee shook his head dejectedly. 

"Can I see the letter he sent you?" 

"Of course, but there's nothing in it that can help, only that he wanted to show me something he'd found at the ministry. You think that they killed him for that?" 

"I'm not a great believer in coincidence, so, yes, I'd say that there's a good chance -" 

But Remus did not get to finish the sentence. Wood's family members began to pop in from the thin air, followed by the ministry Aurors. One by one, people apparated into the house, slowly filling it with the bustle of investigators at work, mixed with cries of grief. Lee and Remus were pushed aside, until they found themselves completely isolated in Wood's bedroom. Remus thought that this was actually not a bad thing compared to having to face the family. He never did know what to say in such events. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Arabella was _so_ sorry for the question she'd asked. All she had wanted was to tease Sirius a little, after the extremely long debriefing. She had asked him why he was such an insufferably arrogant git, but her sole intention was to see him squirm a little under the residual influence of the Veritaserum. The last thing she'd expected was an honest answer. But that's exactly what she got. And a full hour of it. She felt sorry for Sirius, although, admittedly, she was also extremely flattered. And happy, for he loved her back. She never would have imagined. Correction. She _had_ imagined, she just didn't dare to believe. Not until now, anyway. 

After a long hour of confessing his love to her, Sirius was finally beginning to grasp the significance of what he was saying. The fact that the headmaster had given him a double-dose of Veritaserum must have had some influence on the amount of time it had taken him to come to his senses. But once he had, he was biting his lips against the words. 

"Sirius!" Arabella jumped. "You're bleeding! Stop it!" He had bitten through his lip, and large drops of blood stained his dirty robes. Sirius looked at her, puzzled, and kept at it. "There's nothing you haven't said already," she tried to reason with him, almost pleading for him to stop. 

Sirius raised a hand and touched it to his lip gingerly. He looked in shock at the blood on his fingers. "I didn't realise I was biting this hard," he said. "It doesn't hurt at all." 

"When was the last time you felt pain?" asked Dumbledore. He looked worried when he spoke. 

Sirius frowned in an effort to remember. "I think it was when we fought all those Death Eaters." Sirius was still thinking. "No - my legs certainly hurt afterwards, when we ran. I think it stopped right after we went through the fireplace. Yes, I'm sure of it, because when we chased that Death Eater, I had no trouble running." 

"What Death Eater?" 

"The one with the potion." 

"You chased a Death Eater holding a potion?" 

"No, he spilled the potion before he fled. It was harmless, though. At first I thought Mundungus and I were going to melt, or something, but it had absolutely no effect." Sirius laughed at the memory of his baseless fear. 

"So, you and Mundungus got splashed with the potion?" Dumbledore asked inquisitively. 

"Yeah, why?" 

Dumbledore ignored him. He turned on Mundungus, gave him a long piercing look and then said, "_Crucio_." 

Mundungus looked at him, mystified, but didn't as much as twitch. 

"Minerva," Dumbledore called without taking his eyes off the man. "Please summon Severus. I think we need his help." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione tossed in her sleep. It was cold. She felt around for her blanket, only to find that she had none. Opening a lazy eye, she remembered where she was - the middle of the Forbidden Forest, in the centre of a small ward Harry had built. She could recall falling asleep in Harry's arms, but there was no trace of him now. Only his folded cloak lay under her head as a reminder. 

Sitting up to look around her, she could see that Ron and Draco were asleep inside the stone circle. Draco was lying on his back and had Ron's arm resting on his chest. Ron had buried his face in Draco's robes. Feeling a little bewildered, Hermione kept looking, but Harry wasn't there. 

Everything outside the cleared ward was covered with a thin layer of snow. Hermione traced the tree line with her eyes. She recognised it by the lack of white powder on the ground where the forest started. It was only after she rose to her feet to get a better view that she saw him, propped up against a tree just outside the ward. 

Stepping over the low white fence, Hermione approached Harry, moving quietly, as not to wake him. 

"What are you doing up?" he asked when she was close enough to hear him. 

"I though you were asleep," she said. "Why aren't you inside the protected area?" 

"I'm awake, I'd hear an animal if it neared me." 

"Why aren't you asleep? Aren't you tired?" 

"I'm tired," he said cryptically. 

"Well?" 

"Well, I don't want to sleep. I get dreams when I sleep." 

"That's the whole point of sleeping. You'd be dead within days if you don't dream. REM sleep is as vital as breathing." 

"I didn't know that." Still, he showed no sign of arranging himself into a sleeping position. 

"What's wrong? Do you have bad dreams again?" 

"No. I have nice dreams. Sweet dreams. I can't stand it." 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound too bad." She felt that this was going to take some time, so she sat down beside him, leaning against his tree. 

"Malfoy was right," Harry explained. "Those dreams are Voldemort's _gift_ to me. Hermione felt a chill go through her at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. "Those aren't my dreams, they're his. I don't want them. I'd rather have nightmares." 

"Well, I'll check the library when we get back to Hogwarts. Another good reason to go there, by the way. I'm sure we'll find something to rid you of these dreams. In the meantime, you have to get some sleep." 

"I will," Harry mumbled. "Later, I will." 

He placed his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. Hermione put her head down against his shoulder and watched the sky over the clearing. It was probably cloudy, as very few stars were visible against the dark background. Harry touched her chin gently, and guided her face to his. Then, with delicate care that was usually kept for handling the most fragile treasures, he kissed her. His lips hovered atop hers like the wings of a butterfly. He felt as warm and pleasant as ever, but something wasn't right. She drew away from his kiss only slightly, allowing his forehead to rest against hers. 

Not moving away from him, she spoke quietly. "Harry, you know I truly love you." He nodded gently, and Hermione could feel the rough edge of his scar rubbing against her skin. It was more a signal for her to go on, than an agreement. "But I don't think I love you that way. You're like the twin brother I never had. My best friend, not my lover." 

"Great," Harry grumbled. 

"What?" asked Hermione, fighting the urge to break the touch, so she could look into his eyes. 

"I seem to be everyone's brother these days." He was grunting, but there was an amused note in his voice that Hermione took as an acceptance. He gave her a short kiss on the forehead and leaned back against his tree. "Good luck with Malfoy," he added after a while. "I hope he doesn't sacrifice you to his master." 

"What?!" Hermione protested noisily, but got no response. Eventually, she gave up on him, and went back inside the ward. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Describe the potion for me," Snape ordered after he had finished brushing the ash off his robes, while receiving a brief report from Dumbledore. 

Sirius was happy to see that Snape, who had arrived at the castle only minutes before, still had dog-shaped shadows on his cheeks. "It was purple," he said. 

"And bubbling," added Mundungus. 

"And?" Snape asked impatiently. 

"And what?" asked Sirius with matching irritation. 

"What shade of purple? Was it fuming? What did it smell like? What was the viscosity degree? How long did it take to evaporate? Was it hot? Was it cold? Warm?" He met Sirius' perplexed expressing with a jeering gaze. "Do you know _anything_ at all about potions?" 

"Apparently not," Sirius muttered. 

Dumbledore saw this as an appropriate time to step between the two. "Severus, do you know of a potion that can cause this effect?" 

"Several, actually," Snape answered with a patronising tone. "But I think I can find out which one it was by examining the sediment on Black's robe." He turned to Sirius with a sly smile. "If you'll be so kind as to give me your robe, so I can take it to the dungeon for examination." 

Sirius gaped at Snape for a second. Then, he stepped away from the Potions Master, and went beyond Dumbledore's desk. With his eyes still fixed on the Snape, Sirius removed Gryffindor's sword from its holder. With a swift motion, as if he was used to this sword, he carved a large section of the hem of his robe and presented it to Snape. "Would that be enough?" he asked, a glint of victory in his eyes. 

Snape examined the cloth. It was heavily stained and seemed to have absorbed a lot of some substance. "You were completely drenched, weren't you?" He looked at Sirius with astonishment. Sirius nodded, and so did Mundungus. "And you still didn't bother to remember the basic parameters? Unbelievable." With that, he turned around and left the room, the black cloth still clenched in his fist. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione frowned as she stepped over the ward barrier. The things Harry had said really bothered her. Could he be right? Did she possess such feelings towards Draco? She smiled wryly to herself. _I'm even thinking about him as 'Draco'. Until a few days ago, I never would have considered calling him anything but 'Malfoy'. Not true_, she corrected herself, _I would have called him 'a git' or a thousand other, less flattering names. Not 'Draco', though._

She leaned against the low fence and looked at him. Sleeping, he looked so, well, harmless would be too strong a word. He looked temporarily incapable of causing serious impairment. For one thing, she had to admit that he was so handsome that it nearly hurt her eyes to look at him. _Harry is handsome too, in his way_. Hermione smiled again, thinking about his unruly black hair. _Yes, but I'm not in love with Harry_. Her next thought frightened her. _Am I in love with Draco? I can't be. But then, why do I feel that way when he kisses me?_ She shook her head, attempting to shake off the thoughts. _Harry's right. Malfoy _will_ kill me._

She sat there, staring at him for the longest time. He had a pool of silver hair resting by his head; sharp, clear facial features and penetrating sterling eyes. She shuddered. She hadn't realised he was staring back at her until then. He seemed to have realised she noticed his open eyes, because he propped himself on his elbows and looked at her even more intently. Then, he looked at Ron's arm, wrapped around him, and jumped as if a red headed snake had bit him. 

The confusion had control over Draco's face only for a short while. Then, he regained his composure. He inched his way towards Hermione, not taking his eyes off her and not even blinking. He kneeled down very close to her, and waited. 

Hermione didn't know what to say. How do you send away someone when you're not even sure you want him to leave? She took a deep breath and then another. "Draco," she began. Her voice sounded hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Why are you up?" 

"I just wanted to tell you to get some sleep," he answered in a voice softer than she'd ever heard him use. 

"I'm not tired." 

Draco made an unintelligible humming sound. "Come on," he said, putting an encouraging hand on her shoulder. 

Hermione didn't move. "Did you mean it when you said that you were in love with me?" she asked. "Is it still true?" She almost swallowed her tongue after asking that. She had no idea where it came from. She put it on the lack of sleep and the tickling currents that projected from Draco's hand on her. Those made her almost unaccountable for her own words. 

Hermione knew what was coming. She'd been in the same scenario with Draco several times before. He was going to kiss her. Passionately. And she would feel intoxicated by the mixture of his cold mouth and the waves of warmth he set into her. She shuddered slightly, but accepted the understanding that this time she wouldn't even try to resist. She'd have to ask him the question again afterwards, but she wouldn't push him away. 

Draco, though only inches away from her, did not move. The only sign that he was still alive was his increasing pressure on her shoulder. Slowly, it dawned on her that he didn't intend to give her an answer, nor was he going to kiss her. She got to her feet with some difficulty caused by to his squeezing grip, and stormed out of the ward, beyond Harry's tree and into the forest. 

Tears poured down her cheeks. How could she humiliate herself like that? She was _almost_ willing to accept that Draco had changed. She could hear steps behind her, but she didn't want him to catch up with her. She had had enough of him for a while. She pushed away a loose branch and moved ahead. She heard the branch snap back, followed by a strangled cry. She stopped and listened. The same voice swore a little, and then the crunch of stomped twigs had resumed. "Ron?" she asked unsurely. 

"It's me," said the familiar voice. "I saw you run away from Malfoy. What did he do to you? The heartless -" 

"Nothing," Hermione cut in before he could dive into a Malfoy-hate rant. "Nothing," she repeated, looking at her feet. 

"Someone as smart as you must have an incredibly good reason for running alone into the forest in the middle of the night." He took a step closer to her. "Now, what is it?" 

"It's - I'm sorry. I'm just stupid. I thought he - he -" she couldn't say the words aloud. She could not admit to being rejected like this. 

But Ron seemed to understand. "Come on," he said. He held her in a strong embrace and pushed her head towards the hollow of his shoulder. "You don't need him. You're a beautiful, smart, talented witch. You could have Quidditch superstar Viktor Krum or world famous Harry Potter. So what if the Malfoys are an ancient family? He has been disowned anyway." 

Hermione couldn't relate to everything he had said, but his arms on her back were soothing and his cloak was soft against her wet face. She stood there, soaking his cloak with tears, until she felt dry and empty. She raised her head only to see Draco standing still, barely a few yards away. His face was tortured as if the weight of the world was upon him, or rather, as if the weight of the world had been used to punch him in the nose. 

Ron followed her look and spotted Draco as well. "Don't get any closer," he said, holding Hermione even tighter. 

Draco's old sneer was back. "Face it, Weasley," he drawled, taking a step towards them. "You will never have her." 

"And neither will you," Ron retorted. 

Draco stopped, seeming to wither under Hermione's gaze. "All right," he said, raising both hands to the air. "Since we're all up anyway, why don't we carry on this stupid search?" He turned his back to them and started walking back to camp, followed by the other two. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"I wish he'd left you a note, or something," Remus said. 

"Maybe he did," answered Lee. Oliver had once shown him a small hiding place where he kept his most essential belongings. "In case anything happens," he had said. Well, something _had_ happened. 

Lee reached the bed's headboard and tried to remember which nail he should push. "Oliver keeps all his important documents in here," he explained. 

"Kept," corrected Remus in a sad tone. "Oliver _kept_ his things there." 

Lee was startled. The loss of his friend hadn't sunk in yet. He forced his attention back to Oliver's bed. The wood was smoother around one of the nail-heads. That seemed to be right. Lee tried that one, and the headboard slid aside, revealing a tiny cell inside the bed-boards. 

As he'd expected, there were a lot of documents in there, and some coins, but there was also something utterly surprising lying on top of everything else. It was lurid white and reflected the light in a menacing manner. Lee reached in and picked up the hideously familiar Death Eater's mask. He stared at it in disbelief. "Do you think he was -" he trailed off. 

"No," said Remus firmly. "It was obviously just placed there. This is probably what he found in the Ministry that prompted him to call you." 

Lee gave it some thought. "You're right," he said. "Too many of his friends know about this hiding place. If it was his, he would keep it someplace more private." 

Remus nodded. He didn't bother to correct Lee's use of present tense. "Put it back and close the compartments. We don't want anybody to get the wrong impression." In an even darker tone, he added, "Let's go see the family." 

aaaaaaaaaa

The following few hours were an unending, nerve wracking wait. They paced the room in turns. First Dumbledore, then Arabella, followed by Mundungus, and finally Sirius. The latter two were so nervous, that they had developed odd looking tics. Sirius in his eyes, and Mundungus in his upper lip. After a while, they all became tired of walking around in circles and chose to sit down, staring at the door, willing it to open. Until, at long last, it did. 

Sirius sprang out of his seat, knowing he would look very silly if the visitor was someone other than Snape. He reasoned that jumping like that, he looked stupid anyway. To his relief, the man at the door was the long awaited Potions Master. 

"Severus!" Dumbledore called cheerfully. "Have you found which potion was used?" 

Snape gave him an ominous nod. "It was the Nullus Dolor Potion." He gazed at Sirius, and Sirius tried to look like he'd heard of the potion. "I didn't know it was in the use of the dark forces, but if they are using it, that could explain their superior stamina in the battle field." 

"Then why aren't _we_ using that potion regularly?" asked Mundungus. His mouth curled in an involuntary twitch. 

"Because it's illegal," Snape sneered at him. 

"But if it's so useful in battle, why did that Death Eater pour it on them rather than himself?" asked Arabella suspiciously. 

"Because it's also very dangerous." Snape's tone was deductive and emotionless, but he maintained his grave countenance. "He was probably afraid he'd absorb too much of the substance. That could cause irreversible neurological damage." He fixed his eyes on Sirius again. "How much of this potion actually touched you?" 

"I don't know," Sirius said absently. 

"Was it more than a few drops?" 

Sirius could clearly remember chasing the dark wizards, struggling to run in his wet robes. He recalled pushing dripping strands of hair out of his eyes. Yes, there were significantly more than a few drops. "What does that matter?" he asked instead of providing the disturbing answer. "We're fine, so there was no more than we could handle." 

"Unfortunately, that's not true," explained Snape. "It has a delayed effect." He looked at Sirius' tic. "Since I don't think you'd be winking at me, I'd say it's already begun." 

"What's begun?" said Sirius, dreading the answer. 

"The damage to your nervous system." Snape met Sirius' puzzled look and launched into an explanation. "Depending on the amount absorbed, it could be anything from a small tic to -" he trailed off. 

"Death?" Arabella completed the sentence. 

"If they took an extreme dose," Snape paused to take a deep breath, "yes." 

"How much is extreme?" asked Mundungus. 

"The recommended dosage is half a teaspoon," Snape began gradually. "Anything less than a spoonful would only cause minor damages." Everyone in the room fixed an impatient glare at him. "As for the _ultimate_ amount, I don't actually know." He regarded Sirius through eyes that were reduced to narrow black slits. "Did you come in contact with more than half a cup?" 

Mundungus broke into a hysterical laugh and fell to the floor. Sirius dropped next to him, holding his stomach and laughing his heart out. Arabella scowled at the two of them. "Yes," she told Snape. "They definitely absorbed more than half a cup - each. Half a bucket would be a closer approximation." 

Snape said nothing to this. He kept his formal facade, but Sirius wondered if his trembling lip was hiding a smothered smile. 

"Is there an antidote?" Dumbledore asked quietly. His sober voice brought the laughter to a crashing end. 

Snape moved his head slowly from side to side. "There was no need to develop one. Just like there's no antidote to Veritaserum. No one in his right mind would think of taking an over-dose." 

Well, we didn't exactly choose to pour this on ourselves," snapped Sirius. 

Snape glared at him, and then turned back to Dumbledore. "I'll see what I can do," he said and headed to the door. As he left the room, Sirius could still hear him mutter. "Why I'm doing this is beyond me," were his grunted words. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco was getting increasingly frustrated. He had tried to corner Hermione for a quiet talk several times already. It seemed that every single time, one of the other boys was in his way. They just wouldn't let him near her. And that horrible ferret kept on crossing his path. He managed to kick it on several occasions, but lately, it would just pop up in front of him and disappear again once it had been seen. 

Now, the new day was dawning on them. They had walked throughout most of the night. He was tired, he was hungry, and surprisingly, he was upset that the amulet had indicated that they were very close to their destination. This was the time for extreme measures. Draco stopped in his tracks. "Hermione, I must speak to you. Before we go get the Pensive." 

Ron stepped in front of him "Forget about it, Malfoy. She doesn't want to talk to you." 

Draco ignored him. He stepped aside to keep in eye contact with Hermione, because talking over Ron's head was quite impossible. "Please, Hermione. We don't know what's guarding the stupid thing, and I just might not come out of there alive. This may be my last chance to say this." 

"All right," said Hermione. She still glared at him, but that argument seemed to have touched her conscience. 

Despite her consent, Ron still blocked Draco's way. "Move it Weasley," Draco spat. He circled around the ginger-haired boy, and stood in front of Hermione, so close that he could smell her hair. He wondered how it could still smell of flowery soap when none of them had been able to wash for several days. 

Harry and Ron moved beside him. "Can we have some privacy?" Draco glowered at them. Hermione backed him up with a nod directed at the other two boys. Harry and Ron moved away, but Draco took Hermione's hand and ushered her into the forest thicket, just to be on the safe side. 

Just like in the camp, so many hours before, Draco was dumbstruck. He stood in front of her, gawking. 

"Is this about our little conversation back in the camp?" Hermione asked impatiently. Draco just stared at her, and she seemed to have taken that as a confirmation. "It's no longer relevant," she said harshly. "I'm sorry I ever asked that stupid question. Your answer was quite clear." 

"No!" Draco said, but he was talking to her back, as she had turned to leave him there. 

"Hermione, please listen to me." He grabbed her arm and forced her to wheel around. "What I feel for you, I haven't felt for anybody but my father." She seemed so stunned, that he no longer needed to hold her in place. "Respect. I respect you," he explained. He couldn't believe he was saying such things to any girl, let alone a Mudblood. "You, with your pretty eyes and your bookish wit have managed to erase seventeen years of royal upbringing." 

"Royal pain, that's what it is," she muttered. 

Draco smiled, and so did Hermione. She lowered her eyes slowly to his hand that was still placed very tenderly on her elbow. Then she looked back at him, her long lashes opening to reveal her kind, warm eyes. Every time Draco saw these eyes he was amazed at how beautiful brown eyes could be. He thought he could easily be swallowed into their depth. He could see his tiny reflection in her pupils getting bigger as he drew closer to her. 

Then, he was so close, he could no longer see her eyes. He breathed deeply, taking in her bitter-sweet smell with all its intoxicating power. Her lips were cracked and cold-bitten, but as they willingly accepted his kiss, they were the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. He kissed her again and again, putting in every bit of emotion he had. The passion he had for her, the anger he held towards his father, the fear, the hope. Slowly, he felt liberated of his entire burden, as if it was drawn away from him through her warm mouth. Her own warmth flowed into him like a welcomed invader, filling every corner of his body with a sensation so good that he never wanted it to be over. 

After what felt like no more than a few seconds, but was probably much longer, Hermione lowered her head, so he could no longer kiss her. He drowned his face in her hair and took quick, shallow breaths. "We should go back," she croaked. "I'm surprised they didn't come after us already." 

Someone close cleared his throat. "Actually, we have," said Ron. 

"You just seemed... Er..." Harry was stuck. 

"Busy," Ron completed the sentence for him. "Are you all done now? Can we go?" He looked flustered. 

Draco felt Hermione give him one last squeeze as he took a step back. He moved his fingers through his hair, and saw her do the same. He hoped that his motion helped more than hers. She was completely dishevelled, as well as flushed. He resolved to help her set things in order the first chance that he got. 

Hermione checked the Amulet. Its pulse was more rapid, and was almost a single stretch of strong silver light. Hermione followed its direction into a forest clearing, her expression growing more perplexed by the minute. "That's odd," she said. "We should have been able to see - Ooh!" The last word was more a scream than a planned part of the sentence. Hermione fell backward, the amulet knocked out of her hand. 

She sat on the snow, rubbing her head as if it had been hit by a rock. The three boys were instantly by her side. "What happened?" they all asked. 

Hermione didn't answer. She formed a small muddy snowball and threw it towards the centre of the clearing. The ball was blasted only three feet away from the group, splashing them with bits of snow and mire. "There's something out there," she concluded her experiment. 

Wet spots were left where Hermione's ball had hit an invisible wall. Harry got up and stepped towards the rapidly disappearing droplets, which marked the unseen barrier. He touched it gingerly, but whirled around quickly, hearing someone behind them. Looking over the heads of the other three, he acknowledged their new visitor. "Hello, Bane," he said. 

Draco turned to look. The black centaur was only a few yards behind them. He silently rebuked himself for being so preoccupied with Hermione that he had let down his guard. "Hullo, Bane," he repeated after Harry. 

"Humans," said Bane darkly. "You do not belong here. These parts of the forest are for centaurs only." 

"We're here to get Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve," Harry said politely. 

Bane stared at the full light at the eastern horizon. "Humans should not be here," he repeated. 

Harry raised his chin a notch. "I'm not leaving without the Pensieve." 

"As you wish," said Bane. He turned to leave when another centaur appeared. He had white-blond hair and a palomino body. He also had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, and then at Bane. "Firenze," Hermione whispered. 

"Let them in, Bane," demanded Firenze. 

"Neptune was especially bright tonight," said Bane, ignoring Firenze all together. "Treachery," he added. 

"True," said Firenze gloomily. "I've seen what is to come. And so have you. You know you must let the Potter boy in." 

"We keep the Pensieve safe from the evil that lurks in the forest," yelled Bane. "You were the one who got us mixed in the humans' affairs." 

_That would explain the hoof prints Potter saw at the night of the Yule ball_, thought Draco. _The centaurs took the Pensieve, while Goyle was busy taking him._

"And now it is time to separate ourselves once more," Firenze argued, moving nervously from side to side, beating his tail as if to rid himself of a stinging bug. "The memories have been sorted. We have no more business with the vessel." 

Bane stared intently at Ron. "I've never seen that one," he said, kicking his back legs in anger. "All right," he said eventually, his voice dripping of contempt. "You may show the humans in." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Wormtail knew very well what was expected of him. Good news. Nothing less was acceptable. But the news he was carrying was not good. Not good at all. Losing minions was one thing. Losing a cauldron full of Nullus Dolor Potion was quite another. He wished he could be anywhere but here when his master got the word. 

He found his master in a position that was becoming a habit these days: Standing in front of the black and silver grate, pieces of walnut wood ablaze in a green fire. And an image. Three boys, a girl, and a horse - no - a centaur. They were moving aimlessly in a forest. 

"Master," Wormtail started gingerly. "I've just learned of some disturbing news." 

His master swirled to face him. The source of darkness moved with him and settled on Wormtail. "I already know," he said. "The one directly responsible has already paid with his life." A small smile played where his lips should have been. "At least he took two of my biggest opponents with him. Potter's guardian's one of them." 

Harry's guardian - Sirius. He used to be Wormtail's best friend so many years before. That had changed radically. "Is he dead, My Lord?" he asked enthusiastically. 

"Soon." Voldemort looked into the fire once again. "He put his life in the hands of a treacherous ally; my loyal servant." The image in the fire changed. It showed Sirius, lying as still as a pale log on what looked like a hospital bed. Snape was hovering over him, gathering what looked like skin samples. "Soon, he and his friend will be dead." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Firenze led them around something that was initially invisible, but as they walked, a large stone mansion started taking form beside them. Like in a dream, they couldn't exactly put a finger on the exact moment it had appeared, but it was obviously there now. 

They kept walking around the ancient looking house until they reached a tall, arched entryway. The arches and pillars were engraved with centaurs carrying crossbows contoured against various sky charts. 

Harry saw Hermione check the amulet again, before stepping over the threshold. Her posture indicated that she was pleased with what it showed her. 

The gate led into a wide internal court. High walls, made of roughly cut yellow-white stone, surrounded it. In the middle, stood a small house, made of the same stone. Firenze stopped, and pointed at the structure. "The Pensieve is in there," he said and then, in a more brooding tone, added, "Good Luck." With a stamp of hooves, he was gone, leaving them to go the remaining distance to the cottage on their own. 

Harry took a hesitant step forward. Then, seeing Hermione point the amulet to where the Pensieve allegedly was, he began walking more briskly. The inside was as empty as the outside, except for a low, wide marble pillar. The base of the pillar glowed a silver light. Harry knew that silver light. He approached the pillar, and began circling it, wondering how it should be opened. 

"I think the Pensieve is in there," Hermione said, walking beside him. She pulled out her wand, pointed it at the pillar and said, '_alohomora_'. 

With a loud creaking sound, the pillar began to open up, like a flower bud at the touch of the first rays of the morning sun. Inside, silently awaiting, was Dumbledore's Pensieve. 

Harry didn't even stop to think before touching the silvery contents of the carved stone basin. He was immediately sucked into an oval office room. Ron and Hermione were beside him even before the image of the room had completely cleared. Draco followed shortly after, and immediately set about scolding Hermione for rushing into the unknown like a mindless Gryffindor. 

"But I am a Gryffindor," Harry heard her irritated whisper. She must have felt she might disturb the people in the room. Despite going through this experience twice already, Harry, too, felt uncomfortable intruding upon the completely oblivious occupants of the memory. It took him a few seconds to relax and concentrate on the conversation, or rather argument, which was being held. 

One of the arguing parties was easy enough to recognise. He was Minister Fudge. A younger version of him, but the identification was without doubt. The young woman in front of him was more of a puzzle, especially since Harry had only seen her a few times, all very briefly, and all when she was in a rush, sending Sirius or one of his gang on a mission. Fudge using her name was what triggered Harry's recognition. 

"Miss Estes," Fudge said harshly. "I've heard your argument on numerous occasions. The committee has made up their minds. The Azkaban prison will be guarded by Dementors." 

"But Mr Fudge," she still argued, "you must know that those creatures will be the first to follow You-Know-Who when he calls. It's a sitting barrel of Quick-Fire Potion!" She smoothed her black Auror's uniform in a nervous gesture. 

_How right she was_, thought Harry. It had been a year since the Dementors had abandoned their posts to join their risen master. Every Death Eater who was ever captured by the Aurors, was gone with them. The surest way to know someone was unjustly incarcerated was to watch him stay in Azkaban after everyone else was gone. 

Fudge looked at her, his expression more benevolent. "Carole," he said, "Nothing will happen. The Dementors are loyal to the Ministry. The minister of magic has approved. What else do you need to feel safe?" 

Carole Estes did not seem softened by his unctuous talk. "I need to know that the prison holding the most dangerous dark wizards in the country is guarded by -" she took a deep breath. "Guarded by someone who's not into dark magic." 

"That's all right," Fudge assured her. "I will personally be in charge of the Dementors. You have nothing to worry about." 

Harry felt a little snort escape his mouth. How little help the Minister of Magic was when the Dementors had left. The only thing Fudge was good for, was trying to capture Sirius, and luckily, he wasn't very good at that either. 

Carole's objection faded. Harry looked around. The room was dissolving as if it was made of smoke. Everything but the four watchers had turned into swirling darkness... 

And then, they were back inside a room. Again, Fudge was there, but he was much older. This memory couldn't have been more than four or five years old. He was sitting at the head of a large oval table. Several other wizards were present. All eyes were on one tall wizard who was standing at the other end of the table, talking. Animated hand movements accompanied his words. 

"I'm telling you," hissed the standing wizard. "Dumbledore's responsible for the release of Slytherin's monster. He must go." 

"Father," whispered Draco in a choked voice. He started walking into the memory, but was held back by Hermione. 

Fudge rose from his seat as well, his posture projecting less confidence than Lucius possessed. "Mr Malfoy is right," he stammered. "Hogwarts' headmaster is in charge of everything that happens inside the school. Students were hurt, therefore, he should stand down from his position." 

The other wizards at the table reluctantly nodded their consent, and the image dissolved once more. When his vision cleared, Harry was faced with a younger version of himself, getting off the Knight Bus in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He looked confused and frightened, and with a good reason. He had just seen Minister Fudge waiting for him in his pinstriped cloak, and was sure he was about to be expelled. 

Hermione was by his side almost instantly. "I didn't know Dumbledore was there that night," she said. 

Harry frowned in an attempt to remember, "I don't think he was," he said eventually. 

"Than how did this memory end up in his Pensieve?" she asked. 

Harry didn't answer. He followed the conversation only half-heartedly. His mind was on that night. What would have happened if he hadn't escaped Sirius in Magnolia Crescent, where he first saw him in his dog form? How much easier would his third year have been if he hadn't checked into the Leaky Cauldron for the last two weeks before school had started? Fudge's insistence that he stay inside the wizarding community had prevented him from meeting Sirius until it had almost been too late. 

Harry's head zoomed with impossibilities he had considered long forgotten. He almost ignored the change of the scene, until he realised where the Pensieve had taken them. They were in The Three Broomsticks, in what Harry considered to be one of the most horrible days of his life. Right up there with the night Voldemort has risen, and Cedric had been killed. This was the day Harry had learned how his parents had died. 

He watched numbly as Minister Fudge told the Hogwarts teachers the horrible story of how Sirius Black betrayed his friends, the Potters, and how he served them on a silver platter to the Dark lord. 

Back then, Harry was all alone, sitting under the table, hiding from the teachers' view. This time, Harry could see every wizard and witch in the pub shudder as Fudge's story developed. Their expressions ranges from petrified to outraged, and when fudge reached the point in the story where Sirius had laughed over Pettigrew's body, they all seemed ready to tear Sirius apart, if he had just fallen into their hands. 

Harry knew for sure that this part of the story was exaggerated, at the least. He had asked Sirius about it, and Sirius had no recollection of laughing. "If anything," he had said, "I was sobbing hysterically." But then again, Sirius could recall very little of that day. 

Harry was surprised to see Dr Branford standing by the teachers' table, showing great interest in the story. The presence of a known Death Eater at his most intimate moment bothered him. Dr Branford was one of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters, right along with Malfoy, Avery, Nott and many others. Harry had seen him briefly in Rita Skeeter's house, where he seemed very willing to serve Voldemort. "Did you know Simon Branford was there?" he whispered in Hermione's ear. 

"No," said Hermione. "But we were behind the Christmas tree, remember? I couldn't see much." 

"I'd say he rather stands out," Harry insisted. 

"You're right," agreed Hermione. "He is conspicuous in this yellow cloak with the purple stars on it. Maybe he'd left before we removed the tree?" 

Harry looked again, to test this theory, but Dr Branford was no longer there. This, in his eyes, had confirmed Hermione's assessment, but Ron had a different view on the matter. "Why are you saying that, Hermione," he asked in a baffled tone. "You know that we saw him there. You even had something shrewd to say about his horrid cloak." 

Hermione only had a chance to give Ron a confused look before the pub around them turned into swirling blackness once again. When Harry looked around, before the world began to take form around him, he noticed that the ferret had joined them in the Pensieve, and was now bouncing around them, waiting for the image to clear. 

And it did. The Pensieve had now taken them into another collision between their past selves and the Minister of Magic. This time, it showed him standing over his infirmary bed, taking to Snape. Harry almost gagged. This sequence of memories was getting worse by the minute. It was almost like standing next to a Dementor, minus the coldness, which Harry was actually starting to get anyway. He was witnessing the night he had learned of Sirius' innocence, right after he had lost him again. 

"What amazes me the most is the behaviour of the Dementors," said Fudge. He spoke with a mixture of confusion and anger. "You've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?" 

Harry was surprised by the Minister's expression. It was almost as if he had been deeply disappointed. "You think he wanted us to receive the Dementors' kiss?" he asked Hermione over Snape's response. 

Hermione shook her head dismissively, as they viewed Fudge insist the kids were confused. 

"Of course he wanted you dead," sneered Ron. "Just look at him. He's obviously a Death Eater." 

Ron's words fell on Harry like a sack full of Bludgers. How had he not seen it before? Hermione kept moving her head from side to side in evident denial, but Ron pressed on. "What better spy for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named than the Minister of Magic?" he said. 

"He's right," Harry said gloomily. "Think about it: everything we've just seen; The way he refused to let the Ministry fight Voldemort, saying that he couldn't be back." 

"And the way he's always putting off my father's promotion," added Ron. "Everybody knows it's because my father's a Muggle-Lover. Fudge thinks that he lacks proper wizarding pride." 

"And do you remember the time my scar heart, before the third task?" 

"Sure," Ron said with a mischievous smile. "It was right under Trelawney's nose. Was she angry when you went to Dumbledore instead of sharing your vision with her!' 

"Exactly," said Harry. "And when I got to his office, this - this _liar_ was there. He tried to stop me from talking to Dumbledore." Harry was getting overexcited. "At the time, I thought he was just worried about me missing classes, or he needed to speak to Dumbledore or something. I never imagined -" 

Harry's words were consumed by a new swirling blackness. As the scene took shape around him, Harry felt the coldness take complete control over his body. What had started as a series of torturous memories was now complete with what was the most horrible night Harry could remember. The only potentially worst night he'd had, was the one his parents were murdered, but he had no conscious memory of those events. However, he still had vivid dreams about Cedric's death and Voldemort's reincarnation, and that's exactly what he was witnessing now. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"How are they doing?" 

Arabella turned to look at the speaker. Professor McGonagall was in and out of the hospital wing all day. She came over in between her classes, but rumour had it that she'd not taught much that day. Indeed, she'd tried to teach Advanced Furniture Transfiguration to the First Years, while the Seventh Years had been asked to transform mugs to tortoises throughout their entire double lesson. 

Arabella said nothing. She no longer had the strength to vocally admit Sirius' and Mundungus' condition. She took a chair beside Krum, next to Cho's bed. Cho had tried to comfort her several times during the day, but no one so pale could be any consolation. To Arabella's slight relief, Madam Pomfrey took it upon herself to answer. 

"They're the same," she said. Looking at McGonagall's sagging shoulders, she added, "At least they're not worse. I think it was a good decision to put them under enchanted sleep." 

"Well, we didn't have much choice," said McGonagall grimly. "Not after they started having seizures." She turned nervously towards the door. "I wish Severus would come back," she said with feeling. 

As if he'd heard her say that, Snape appeared in the infirmary door. He was carrying a decorated flask full of a radiant orange fluid. "Is this the antidote?" Arabella jumped. 

"Possibly," said Snape. "I do not know the correct dosage, though, and it will not correct any damage that has already been done." He stared fixedly at Sirius' prone figure. "That is beyond my ability," he added in a lower note. 

Snape approached Sirius bed, and Arabella watched intently as he measured some of the glowing liquid. As he slowly poured it into Sirius' mouth, Arabella felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"Moony," she whispered, "You're back". His baffled gaze made her stomach cringe. She'd have to go through all this again. With as few words as she could manage, she explained everything to him and to Lee. They were both kind enough not to ask questions. "I just hope Snape isn't trying to poison Padfoot," she concluded. 

"Don't worry," whispered Remus. "He hates me almost as much as he hates him, and he's been providing me with Wolfsbane Potion on a steady basis for years." He stopped whispering to release a short grunt. "_Almost_ steady basis," he corrected himself. 

Snape stood straight again, and seemed to be waiting. "Nothing's happening," said Arabella almost in a whine. 

"That's because he's still under an enchanted sleep," retorted Madam Pomfrey, who had vast experience with these situations. "Severus, is it safe to remove the enchantment from him now?" Snape nodded ever so slightly. "Minerva," she almost demanded, "If you'd be so kind?" 

McGonagall reached Sirius' bed, her wand in her hand. She had been the one to place the spell; for best results, she would be the one to remove it. Arabella felt Remus' hand tighten around her shoulder almost to the point of hurting. McGonagall tapped her wand on Sirius' forehead and murmured a few words under her breath. 

Immediately, Sirius' back arched in what looked like terrible pain. A loud, agonised cry came out of his throat. Arabella darted forward, and before Remus could stop her, she was beside Sirius, patting his forehead and mumbling soothing words. 

McGonagall's wand was at a ready to reinstall the enchantment, but Snape grabbed it, asking her to wait. It took a moment before Sirius' body slumped back to bed; however, after it did, he seemed completely relaxed. His breathing was shallow and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead; his eyelids began to flicker, and eventually, he opened his eyes. 

He looked at Arabella and smiled, and then sent a hesitant hand to his mouth. "Last I remember, I was foaming," he laughed. "I'm not foaming now, am I?" 

Arabella felt tears welling up in her eyes as she smiled back at him "No," she said. "You seem just fine." And then, she did something she wouldn't have dared to try, had it not been for Sirius' Veritaserum-derived confession. She kissed him. Gently, keeping in mind that he had just been through a very traumatic experience. 

Sirius must not have been aware of the trauma he had just sustained, because he pulled her towards him with a force that made her stumble over his bed. He held her head close to his and kissed her with such passion she was glad she had already stumbled, because otherwise, she would have fallen then. 

Mundungus must have received the same treatment, because shortly after, she heard his laughing voice. "Hey, Arabella, I'm up, too. Do I get a kiss like that as well?" 

Arabella turned away from Sirius, happy that Mundungus' bed was just on her other side, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Welcome back," she said. She was back with Sirius before his loud cries for fairness had subsided. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry felt as if someone had forced a bucket full of ice down his throat. Even Hermione was shivering beside him. He saw Draco move to put a soothing arm around her, as the events raced forward to the moment Harry had woken up in the infirmary, bleary and drowsy, to the sound of a heated argument between Professor McGonagall and Cornelius Fudge. 

He had been so sleepy then, he hadn't even noticed Simon Branford had been escorting the minister. As the voices became louder, Harry felt every single word Fudge was saying as if it was an icy dagger going through his heart. He had just learned, again, of Barty Crouch's bitter end. Fudge had made sure he couldn't testify about Voldemort's return. The Dumbledore inside the memory said as much. 

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic!" Hearing these words again, left Harry windless. He knew how everything went on. Next, Fudge had called him a 'crackpot' and went on to quote Rita Skeeter. Of course. She was a Death Eater too. 

Harry knew this was only a memory, but he couldn't take it any longer. He pushed away from what was his infirmary bed and rushed towards the door. Dr Branford had moved away from him just in time, but Harry's shoulder still brushed against his yellow and purple cloak. 

Harry stepped out of the door and took a few deep breaths. His mind began to clear, and then it hit him. Dr Branford. If he was just a memory, shouldn't he have passed right through him? Or was it just his imagination that their shoulders touched? He dared a peep into the room. Dr Branford was standing there, right behind Minister Fudge, looking genuinely bored by the exchange of harsh words. 

Draco and Hermione were at the other side of the room, both looking very pale. Harry could see Draco blanching further as his memory-self began naming Death Eaters, a list that had started with Draco's father. Ron was standing right next to them, smiling bitterly at the sight of his mother trying to push Harry back to bed. 

Taking the longer way around, Harry approached the other watchers. If something was wrong with Simon Branford, he did not want to alert him. "Ron, Hermione," he whispered. He could see all three pairs of ears perking. "Did you notice anything odd about Dr Branford?" he asked. 

"Is that what you find interesting at this moment, Potter?" Draco said angrily. Harry noticed Hermione squeezing his upper arm, and held back a stingy response. 

"He has a hideous taste in clothing?" Hermione more asked than said. 

"Aren't those the exact same robes he had on in the Three Broomsticks the year before?" asked Ron. 

"They are," determined Harry. "I went by him a minute ago, and I think I touched him. Should I be able to touch a memory?" 

Hermione raised her hand and then moved it right through the bed. "Apparently, not," she deducted. 

Harry looked at Dr Branford again. He could swear Dr Branford was looking right at him. He slowly reached into his robes, looking for a wand, but the Death Eater Doctor was quicker. He aimed his wand at Harry and very slowly said, "You're right. I'm not part of the memory. Put your wand slowly on the ground, and step back. 

Harry still had a wand in his pocket that had once belonged to a Death Eater he'd stunned. He pulled that wand out and dropped it on the ground. The wand landed with a muffled clink. He spread both hands aside, as if to protect his friends, and took a step back, pushing them away from the impostor. 

Nobody moved while the subject of the memory-argument switched to giants. "What are we waiting for?" Harry asked, still holding the rest of the group behind his outstretched arms, although he could barely feel them any more, due to the overwhelming coldness. 

Dr Branford smiled. "The memory sequence is almost done," he said. "I'm waiting to see you all outside together." The ferret bounced around him as he spoke. Before the background of Snape flashing his Dark Mark in Fudge's face, the ferret had transformed into a woman. A beautiful young woman, holding what looked like an ivory wand. "Oh, hello miss Centeno," Dr Branford smiled. "Glad you could join us." 

The girl smiled back at him. "Good to see you too, Simon." With an unwavering wand, and hawk eyes still on the group, she moved to give him a long, forceful kiss. Dr Branford's hand on her hip was the only additional contact they made. "Please call me Aude," she said when they were done. Her voice was velvety soft and in complete contradiction to her assaulting posture. 

Fudge had just dropped a large bag of gold on Harry's bedside table, causing both the memory Harry and the real Harry to recoil. The next thing, Harry felt himself rising into the air; the infirmary dissolved around him; for a moment, all was blackness, and then he felt as though he had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on his feet, in the same little stone house Firenze had led the to. 

Everyone else was back from the memory as well. Dr Branford and Aude, the ferret-animagus were rapidly closing in on them. She flashed a wide smile at Hermione. "Thank you for leading them here, darling," she said. Hermione moved her eyes on the others, as if looking to see to whom Aude was talking. 

Her image from earlier danced in front of Harry's eyes. She had been shaking her head vigorously. Dismissing the option that Fudge could be in the service of Voldemort. And it was so obvious that he was. Harry felt the coldness in him deepen. He had considered her one of his two best friends. Ron's reaction was similar to his. In the corner of his eye, Harry could see him open-mouthed, goggling at her. Even Draco held her at an arm's length, assessing her in the light of the new information. 

"I didn't know they'd be here!" Hermione protested. "I'm not a Death Eater! How could I be? I'm not a pure-blood!" 

"That's okay, dear," Aude reassured her. She took Hermione by the hand and dragged her away from the group. "You're not the first Mudblood to trade her life for the lives of her friends. They'll understand." 

"The hell we will!" fumed Ron. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione. Its tip began blazing with a curse before it was knocked out of his hand by a quick spell from Dr Branford. Ron set to charge her with his bare hands, but Harry grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back. "She sold us out!" Ron cried. 

"I don't know," Harry said unsurely. He looked at Hermione's big brown eyes. They were wet with tears, and showing great distress. She was struggling against her captors, trying to rejoin the group. 

"If anyone tries to harm her," Dr Branford spat threateningly, "I will personally chop off both his hands." He led the two girls towards the door. "Get out," he ordered, "All of you." 

Harry stumbled towards the entrance, his numb legs barely carrying him. Why was that Death Eater protecting Hermione so ardently? The implications of the only explanation he could think of were too much for him to grasp. 

Afternoon light greeted them as they came out into the centaurs' yard. The vast yard was completely full of wizards in black cloaks and white masks, but they weren't the only ones there. Finally, Harry understood the coldness and the numbness that had taken residence inside him. There were at least two dozen Dementors scattered among the Death Eaters. Harry didn't even think before acting on the instinct he had acquired back in his third year at Hogwarts. He raised his hand in the air and shouted, "_Expecto Patronum_!" 

His beloved silver prongs bloomed right out of his bare fingers. It was less solid than the patronus he was able to create with a wand, but it was strong enough to gallop between the dark wizards and the Dementors, making the wizards scatter and the Dementors run for hiding. The ones that were not quick enough met a sticky end. 

The feeling began to return to Harry's limbs, but the patronus alone was not enough to chase away the wizards made of flesh and blood. Harry, Ron and Draco stood in front of a court full of hostile wizards, with Hermione, Dr Branford and Aude Centeno at their back. 

"I'm not going down without a fight," Harry said, raising both his hands defensively. 

"Me neither," Ron poised himself beside his friend. 

"Well, if we're dead anyway," muttered Draco. He pulled out his wand, and only then seemed to have realised he was the only one of the trio who was actually armed. That, however, did not last for long, as several '_expelliarmus_' charms had hit him simultaneously. His wand was blown out of his hand and he was thrown half-way across the yard, where he slumped into unconsciousness. 

As all eyes followed Draco's path, Hermione used the opportunity to get a hold on her wand and blast her way out of the arms of her captors. She stood back-to-back with Harry and Ron, keeping an eye on Aude and Dr Branford. "Do you believe me now?" she asked. 

Ron didn't answer, but Harry nodded confidently. Then, he realised she couldn't see him, and with a firm voice said, "yes." 

"Well," said Dr Branford. "Since Potter is obviously not going to kill the Mudblood, we'll just have to go for the next best thing." And he shot a curse at Harry. 

Harry managed to deflect the curse back at Dr Branford, reinforcing it in the process. It had become strong enough to knock out both the curser and the woman next to him. Harry turned just in time to see Ron being hexed and land windless next to Draco. 

The next curse was cast by Harry. He meant to use a stunning curse, but the form of wandless, aimless magic he was using was beyond his ability to control. The curse hit four of their assailants, disfiguring them in a way that left no room for doubt whether they were still alive. They couldn't have been. Not when so much of their anatomy had been misplaced. 

"Try to use a stunning spell," Hermione advised between casting her own portion of curses. 

"That's what I've been doing," Harry said, qualifying another Death Eater to join the Headless Hunt. 

"Then use something softer, for heaven's sake!" shouted Hermione. "Use Furnunculus Curse, or Jelly-Legs or something." And Harry did. But the dark minions were still killed by his curses. They did it in a more dignified way, but they were still dead. 

Hermione and Harry worked well as a team, defending each other, shouting short coordinating orders to one another. They fought fiercely, and were able to hold off the Death Eaters, but Harry knew it couldn't last very long. He kept casting glances in Ron's and Draco's direction, wishing them to recover so they could help the fight. His glances had become more frequent after Hermione was knocked out of action in a way that rendered his '_enervate_' spells useless. 

Finally, Harry saw Draco move. He sat up and assessed the situation. All he needed to do to get a wand, was reach out his hand and grab one of the many wands Hermione and Harry had been able to knock out of dark wizards' hands. 

Instead of snatching one wand, Harry saw him pick up two. He used one of them on Ron, in what Harry assumed was an enervating charm, because in two seconds, Ron was on his feet, holding the other wand. 

"Harry, come on!" Draco called to him. "If we link, Weasley and I will be able to use some of your powers." He made an urgent movement with his hands, and moved to touch Ron's Dark Mark. 

Harry made his way in between the Death Eaters' curses. He jumped and rolled on the hard pavement to get to Malfoy and Ron. He saw the two boys link hands, and was stopped short, completely oblivious to a curse that used that opening to hit him. 

Ron and Draco were surrounded by a black, semi-transparent sphere. Harry had expected as much. But that was not what caused him to stop in his track. The things that caused him such surprise were Ron's and Draco's wands, which were not pointing towards the Death Eaters, but at each other. 

"Don't get any closer!" Draco shouted at Harry. Obviously, that had made Harry dash towards them. No one, _no one_, could terrorize him by holding a wand to his friend's head. 

The sphere consumed him with smothering isolation the moment Harry touched its perimeter. His thought was so blurred by a red haze, that he couldn't think of any appropriate spell. He just punched Draco, knocking him to the ground and throwing himself all over him. 

Harry only managed to throw two blows before he was completely breathless, and had to sit back and breathe. To his surprise, although Draco seemed perfectly capable of hurting Harry, he didn't. instead, he began shouting at him. "You stupid, stupid Gryffindor! Can't you for once do as you're told! You should have stayed out!" 

"And let you kill my friend?" Harry tried to yell back. Instead of the angry yell, all he managed was a strangled screech. The red haze in front of his eyes was getting thicker at an alarming rate. 

_You git!_ Harry heard Draco's voice inside his head. _He's the traitor! Can't you feel he's overcharging the Link to overwhelm you?_

_I'm not a sneaky Slytherin!_ Ron's voice echoed in Harry's head, as the sounds of explosion became dimmer, like something heard from underwater. _He and his Death Eater friends tried to frame Hermione and now they're trying to frame me. How would I know how to overcharge a Link? Malfoy's the one's experienced with these things. You have to break the Link or he'll kill you._

"That's why I was trying to warn you not to enter!" Draco didn't bother transmitting his thoughts. "He's probably had some training. He's right about one thing. You have to break the Link or you're dead." 

"How do I do that?" Harry choked. 

_Curse him_, two voices echoed in his head in tandem. 

Harry looked frantically from one accusing boy to the other. He didn't want to curse either of them. He had seen the deadly results of even his tiniest curses. "Ron," he said in a hoarse voice. "Get out. Leave me here with Malfoy, alone." 

"I can't!" cried Ron. "I'm holding him back. If I leave, you're dead in less than a blink." Only then, Harry noticed how exhausted Ron looked. How utterly drained both boys looked. 

"It's the other way around!" retorted Draco. He dropped to his knees, beads of perspiration forming on his temples, his hair sticking to his face. "Do it now, before it's too late." His body shivered in a way Harry had seen it do only during the last second of the MQ test. He was putting every shred of physical and magical ability into this. 

Harry turned to Ron. He, too, seemed to exhaust his powers. But what Harry realised, as he felt the urgent need for a breath of air, was that he could not afford to wait until the other boys lost consciousness. He raised his hand with a tingling ears curse - the softest curse he knew. Time stood still, but his mind raced faster than it ever had. What if he cursed the wrong boy? Draco was the natural choice. A Malfoy; a Slytherin; a self-admitted Death Eater. But then again, both boys had told him that if he were there alone with the traitor, he would already be dead. So why would Draco initiate the Link with Ron, if he was the traitor? But Ron - how was that possible? He was his best friend. The thing he'd miss most. And he released the curse. 

Before he was consumed by the sphere, Harry saw his curse hit its target. With the last of his vision, he watched Ron's body slouching lifelessly to the ground, and then he, too, fell. 

aaaaaaaaaa

A/N:  
Oh dear. Do you think Ron is dead? Is Harry dead? Am I as good as dead? BG Do you think Harry made the right choice, or did he make a horrible mistake he's going to regret for the rest of his life? (If there is such a thing as 'the rest of Harry's life') Very depressing. The next chapter is also quite difficult, but it ends with an optimistic tone. After that, there's only the conclusion. 

Well, Told you the ship was a democratic vote, and even after putting my personal ten votes, the D/H people had won. Oh, well. Hope you liked that part. Jim Flanagan says 'BOOO'. Paker wanted to elaborate by saying 'So does Parker-H/H all the way for me.' 

I've found out something when I wrote Wood's death scene - I don't like writing scenes like that. It's very depressing. I would have reconsidered the other deaths in this fic, if they weren't so important to the plot. Again - oh, well. (Late addition: "Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words" Professor Dumbledore, CoS) 

Read? Review!

Thank you section:  
Well, most of you know the drill, and those of you who are new to this - just search for your name; it's bold, it's in a new line; should be easy enough. 

First and foremost, the ones who give writing FanFiction a meaning - my wonderful betas (by order of returning my mail G): **Jim Flanagan**, who has done everything; from correcting my style to commenting about the plot and even went as far as writing alternative scenes to the ones in the fic. You can find those in the HPParadiseist. **Jeralyn**, who keeps cheering me up with her wonderful comment and who will be in a movie! Congratulations! **Parker**, who catches every tiny mistake I make and knows exactly what I mean. She's also the one responsible for the vast presence of Snape :). **Lainey**, who stormed into beta work the minute she got home from vacation, and had useful remarks. And last, **stark-raving-loony** who really wanted to help, but we couldn't work it out. 

The longest review award goes to hermioneatkcom/Blair Margo, who is a self-declared one person :). Al made a nice try at it, but failed :). 

**Cassandra Claire:** Thank you so much for the picks! And all it took was pressing you against a wall :). Still think Simon is dreamy? All right, I don't get it. Do you want Ron dead or alive? Because I'll take the money and the brownie any day, but a cameo in DS just might be the thing to put me off BG. No, I do not hate Ron. Not at all. I think he's the most normal character in the HP world. I do hate Malfoy. You know that. However, I believe I'm writing this story regardless of my feelings towards both of them. LoL! Oh, and Ginny did not make out with Lee on Cho's bed. Honestly! What kind of a girl you think she is? They did it on the bed next to her :). Hope your personal issues get sorted out quickly :).  
**Saitaina A. Moricia:** Well, you're already in three scenes in chapter 11. Who knows what will happen when I actually start writing it? :) You're right about the MQ, but I wanted Harry's delusions to be shattered in the cruellest possible way. Of course Jim Flanagan thought of a better way to do it, but it was too late. You can find his version of the scene in the HPParadise egroup.  
**Mwalimu:** Thank you so much! This time, you hit on gold. The 'children' didn't feel right to me. I actually posted a question about it so several lists, but no one came up with a good answer. I didn't want to keep saying "the boys and the girl" - it is so clumsy! I didn't know 'kids' was such a good word. Thanks again! It was very sweet of you to re-check it.  
**meg:** Thanks for reviewing a previous chapter (forgot all about that aging potion BG). I hope you enjoyed the rest of the story.  
**Lady Malfoy:** Ahem... I thought we had a deal. Where are the rest of your 3-4 chapters? No chapter 11 for you... About Hermione's MQ - well, obviously there's more to doing spells than one's magical potential :). About turning the soap into action/adventure, well, actually it's my bad. I can't seem to take my hands out of that genre :).  
**Dr. Simon Branford:** I got my revenge! dancing a little dance of victory you wore yellow and purple in this chapter. Heh, heh. Well, I consider the score settled. And no, you don't get Hermione. I can arrange you a date with Nagini, if you insist...  
**angelriddle:** Guess is playing tricks on you, huh? Thanks for trying twice :).  
**heidi tandy:** grate site name! I will not give up hating Draco. Oh, right... sorry... your review invoked several evil grins.  
**Amanita Lestrange (Pippin):** Oh, you're so right about the Slytherin Common room back in the Marauders days. Didn't think about it like that. Well, I'll _read_ any WMPP about that.  
**#1 hp fang:** Oh, I'm so excited! A serial flamer! In my fic! Wipes off tears of mirth Oh well, if any of us FanFic authors could write the real HP books, well, we wouldn't be here, would we? Anyway, if you're looking for something that presumes to portray the real HP world, you could review my other fic - Harry Potter and The Unforgivable Curses. I'm kinda curious to know what you think about it. Oh, and sign '#1 hp fang' or 'the h/h flamer' so I know who you are. And BTW - look in my author page. I'm as far from being h/h or h/d fan as one can get. Doesn't stop me from writing a story about it.  
**stark-raving-loony:** Oh dear. Thanks fro trying anyway. Well, you're even more famous now, being in the special betas 'thank you' section. Don't let your head get blown off :).  
**Sarah:** Sorry about the pairing sigh. The mention of Justin was just Draco's way of teasing Harry. Well, making WMPP all Slytherins is just my way of tormenting Harry some more. I like torturing my heroes :).  
**Lizzy/Tygrestick:** Thanks! And thank you for answering my question. That's _exactly_ what I wanted to hear :).  
**Crystal Music:** Oh, I do hope this chapter made up for the D/H pairing. I know I had a very hard time writing that. Well, at least it's not D/G :). You're still welcome to write that fic! Ron is a really nice, normal guy, just... well... not in this story...  
**magicallittleme:** Well, no. The boy with the ferret was not Colin Creevey. Lol! Sorry. Yes, Harry'll have a hard time hurting James. Your review was hilarious.  
**Al:** Well, your reviews are growing bigger and bigger. Way to go! Apparently, a guy named 'Sirius' has longer 'thank you' sections. He told me so in his review. Well, if wizards wore Muggle clothes under their robes, they wouldn't be so clueless when going into the Muggle world. On the other hand, they make sweaters for Christmas, and pull the robes over their head on the train without getting undressed first. I don't think JKR really made up her mind about this. As for getting cold or exposing their privates - well, isn't that what's magic for? I'm sure any original Branford G comes equip with warming/fanning charms. Really? JKR said something about WMPP being Slytherins? Can you point me to the chat?  
**Ice Dragoness (April):** Well, I didn't think 'Ginny Potter' or 'Hermione A. Snape' are real names either, so you can call yourself whatever you like :). The ferret girl is a cameo for one of my betas. Nice plot you've got planned... Hmmm... Not telling! Your first review was just fine, but glad you popped in to say hello again. No major characters left to cast, but you can be Death Eater #49 (#48 is already gone). I'll do it only if you promise _not_ to put me as a cameo :). Asked Cassie for the same thing.  
**Manday:** Thanks!  
**LunaLuv:** Ooh, hope I didn't tease you too much with the D/R bits. I've seen some pretty good D/Harry, but no D/R. Hmmm... That's a novel idea.  
**She who has too many manes and driving me and my poor memory nuts (Emily):** Hon, at this rate, you've got about two lines of slash coming your way. Not even a little kiss. I'm smug? boo hoo That hurt! :). Well, still waiting for that list. Last time you sent me one, you made this story jump by two degrees.  
**Amandah:** Hope you're happy with the ships. You seemed very excited about it :).  
**Geena Confused:** Don't do what? To whom? looks around, puzzled Thanks for the compliments!  
**Lana Mavi:** Ah yes, another one who's fallen victim to play. I'd bet I'm no longer on your fav list (my story gets kicked off everybody's lists every few days) Oh well. Thanks for going through the effort of reviewing again. Well, you'll probably dancing a little D/H victory dance now... Hope this'll be worth all the bonking on the head that I'll get from the H/H people :). No more boys in knickers. I strongly believe that there is such a thing as "too much of a good thing". Better leave you when you're still drooling :). Tsk... tsk... on the multiple reviews, although they made me laugh really hard.  
**DropDeadSaucy:** My god, what a name. For a minute there, it got me excited. I though I got another flame. Oh well, normal review is good too :). Thanks!  
**DracoMalfoyLover:** Wow! That's quite a compliment! Thanks! Sorry that Ginny/Lee were a bit neglected here. They'll be back in chapter 12.  
**Tonallan:** Oh, you made me laugh so hard at your distress. I'm really, really sorry (for laughing, that is). Well, if you had a vote when it counted, maybe we wouldn't have been in this D/H mess now :). Hope you took it well.  
**lucklessangel:** Thank you!  
**Lazuli:** you only too 2.5 hours to read this? My god! That's speedy. Cold shower and coffee :) wow! I'm glad to have been able to cause that reaction.  
**Dagan:** Don't sign, hon. I can find you by your 'frequent reviewer' card :). Thank you so much for the past chapters beta! I have trouble uploading the corrected chapters (only been able to fix chapter 4) but I'll eventually beat the system. Sorry about the upheaval in your room and about the dishes. Lol!  
**Gen:** I'm doing the best I can, thanks!  
**dracolava:** Yep, pretty obvious you wrote that review for chapter 1. I wonder what you're feeling about the story now.  
**sakura:** beh. I hope you don't hate me too much right now. Thanks!  
**Sanna:** Thank you so much for going through the trouble of sending me the review by e-mail and then coming back here! Well, we already discussed everything else :).  
**AngieJ (Ebony):** Thanks for adding Al and me to the Paradise list :) TiP8 was great (but you know that already). I won't pest you about TiP9, but I'm looking forward to it G.  
**Sidney:** Ooh! Disappointing you feels like a being punched in the stomach. I'm really, really sorry. And your review was so passionate!  
**Circe:** That was weird. You've already reviewed chapter 7. Well, I guess that's the new chaptering system for you :). Thanks for the great reviews!  
**Amanda:** Oh, you're so sure that was Draco with the ferret... VBEG  
**Molly:** grins back I'm truly impressed with your ability to read this in one sitting. Thanks!  
**Cr1Ms0nD3v1L:** That must be hard to pronounce :). Yep got the name for the MQ from the IQ thing. Thanks!  
**Sirius:** Thanks for coming back to review after dropped dead on you. I really appreciate it. Thanks for the constructive criticism. I think that when this is finished, I'll write a short single instalment to make it up to Ron. I'm not trying to write a gargantuan 'thank you' section. I just enjoy chatting with those who've been nice enough to leave a review, and I feel it is appropriate to answer their questions. Well, this one is shorter, so you still hold the record :).  
**Tulip Butterfly:** Ooh! I hope you're not too disappointed at the way things turned out. Thanks!  
**Laura:** hmmm... Well, if you don't like mushy, why do you open a story titles "soap"? Anyway, thanks. I'm not a "mushy" person, and I'm happy to know that I was able to write something that made you fell that way :).  
**diddly day:** Thanks!  
**lil ginny:** Very passionate... Thanks!  
**AVK:** So you join the ones calling for Ron's death. Well, you'll find out at the end of the next chapter VBEG.  
**Puzzler:** Great pun :). A bit much is right. Then again, it is soap. On the other hand, one of them was telling Voldemort he's not in love with Hermione any more. Do you know which one?  
**Roar/Rhiannon/hopeshelovesharry:** Thanks! You still have fewer names than Emily (a few notes earlier).  
**Unicorn Chick:** Hope you're happy with the pairing :). I'm glad you like long chapters. I've had some doubts about that. Thanks!  
**StarFig:** Thanks!  
**Mariah:** I'm so happy you don't like Malfoy! One last person left to guard the fortress!  
**Demon Child:** Sweet. Thanks! JKR said Lily was a Gryffindor, so I couldn't put her there with the rest of the Marauders. The rest were an inseparable pack, so putting one there would put all the others. I really think that's a nasty surprise JKR is planning for Harry. If you want to discuss it further, you're welcome to mail me. As for Harry as Gryffindor's heir, I actually like the idea. I just couldn't fit it in.  
**Taylor:** MQ, just like IQ only shows potential. It is possible for someone with a slightly lower MQ to be better at magic than someone with a higher _potential_. Having said that, no, Hermione didn't try too hard on her test. Your suggested plot line is evil! I like it :). I wonder what happened with your school assignment.  
**Lainey:** Thank you so much. Sorry to have landed on you with the chapter the minute you got home.  
**Phyllia:** from your review, one would almost think you want Draco and Ron to end up together :). Sorry that Lee/Ginny were missing this time. They'll be back on chapter 12.  
**gumdrop:** Thanks! Your name is a great idea for a password to Dumbledore's office :).  
**hermioneatkcom/Blair Margo:** you managed to get me confused with the names, which is not a very difficult task, actually. Changing your user idea is easy. Just choose the 'authors' tab and follow the instructions. I'd have mailed you about it, but you don't publish your e-mail. I've spent a lot of resources on the "was James a Gryffindor" question. It is not in the books. Tom Riddle, who was a Slytherin was also head-boy and adored by all (except for the Transfigurations teacher, who saw through him). You're welcome to mail me about that, too. I'm glad you liked the small details. That's what makes the whole story :). About the MQ - see what I wrote to Taylor. Who said Draco's the traitor? VBEG. I liked your sly remark on the underwear (or lack thereof) BG.  
**Badbrittish98:** Yes, I am going to finish it. I hate leaving an unfinished job. Thanks!  
**Kirjava:** Thanks! That's quite a compliment :). Er... what black oval thing?  
**Nanashi No More:** Thanks!  
**izzy:** Thanks for leaving a review even when you don't know that to say :).  
**Alicey:** Sub-god Harry... hmmm... I like the sound of that :).  
**Bob the ugly:** Thanks!  
**zephyr:** Glad you like the length of the story. You might want to check out the HPparadise egroup, dedicated to novel-length stories. Thanks!  
**Lily Granger:** Wow! So much invested into reading this! At last, someone who reads as slowly as I :). I bet it's not on your favourites list any more. has a tendency to remove my stories from everyone's lists. Oh well...  
**Amandah:** poignant :). Don't worry, I intend to follow this through.  
**Hermione A. Snape:** I will! I will! But I'm sure you'll survive anyway :).  
**Lucius:** Well, you must be happy with the pairing. Actually, if Emily goes through with her promise, I might write an alternative ending featuring R/D. However, that will only be available on the egroups.  
**Dementia:** Hey! Another one who's a slow reader like me! That's great to know that there are others like me out there :). I hope you're not too disappointed with the traitor. Thanks!  
**season5girl:** Thanks for going through all the trouble to R/R! The story is also available through egroups (mail me if you want details). Well, I guess you're happy about the pairing :). I'll leave D/Harry to the experts ;). Thanks for the multiple reviews.  
**Ivylee03037:** Thanks!  
**Ignacia:** So passionate! Oh dear... I hope you're better now :).  
**JamesF:** Oh, well... I owe you a lot! (but you already know that). Can't wait to see your alternative scenes. Your version of the MQ tests was much better than mine, and the schnoogling... ;)  
**Wandzeler:** So sweet. Thanks!  
**Angelina Johnson:** Thanks! Judging by your name, you might want to look up AngieJ and read her story "Trouble in Paradise". It's extremely good even if you're not an Angelina fan.  
**Lkjg:** Huh? Terribly bored, are ye?  
**Katie:** Thanks!  
**Trance:** A speed reader... I admire you guys :). Not weird at all, I did set up D/H. I'm glad you noticed it. Thanks!  
**Enigma:** Yeah, I know. I wanted to write soap, it just got twisted out of my control somewhere along the way. As you must have noticed, I, too, am awful with titles :). Thanks!  
**starr:** That was a great review! Most people who are new to fanfiction really don't take the time to review. That's really considerate! Sounds like you've had a chance to read quite a number of stories, though. Hope you're still having fun!  
**Angel Eyez:** Tsk... Tsk... for the multiple reviews ;). Thanks!

39


	11. The Turncoat

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 11**_

_The Turncoat_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Ron Voldemort Ashwinder D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Oh dear. One traitor; one death; a few barely clad girls; four creatures from "Fantastic Beasts" and several very confused boys.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
Well, last time I took the chapter name from JKR; this time I'm taking it from another author I wholly admire: **Al**; only this time I have his written consent. Thanks Al! You've got this chapter dedicated to you and your feeble attempts at getting the "longest review" award.

**Where we left off:** Horrible cliffhanger (ring any bells?) Either Ron or Draco was trying to kill Harry. Harry had just shot Ron right before collapsing himself. Oliver Wood is dead. At least Sirius and Mundungus are fine, thanks to Snapie.

**Warning:** Same as last time. This chapter is highly charged with all kinds of emotions. It was extremely difficult to write, and I'm not sure it'll make a "fluffy" reading, if that's what you're looking for. The only difference is that there's no cliffhanger this time.

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Before he was consumed by the sphere, Harry saw his curse hit its target. With the last of his vision, he watched Ron's body slouching lifelessly to the ground, and then he, too, fell. 

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Harry felt silky linen surround his body. His head was resting on a soft feather- cushion. This felt a lot like Hogwarts' infirmary beds, only it couldn't have been one of those. He remembered only too well the events that had led him there. The Death Eaters; the sphere created by the Dark Mark on his arm when it touched Draco's and Ron's. _Ron_. He remembered cursing him. His heart cringed momentarily. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot Ron. Maybe not the last; he _did_ have a choice. He could have shot Draco instead. But he was alive now. That meant Draco hadn't been trying to kill him. And that meant -

He didn't dare think of what that meant.

Harry heard a swish of a heavy cloak passing by him. "Good morning, Harry," came a shrill hiss by his ear.

Harry opened his eyes wide. The brilliant light that hit them was not sufficient to block out the dark image that stood so close to him. There was no doubt. Harry sat bolt upright. "Voldemort," he hissed.

"Yes, Harry." The hideous serpentine mouth curled up at him. "Welcome to our midst. You have just earned that mark you're bearing by killing the son of one of my greatest opponents. This will send Arthur Weasley a particularly clear message. Very well done."

Harry looked at him confused, his eyes as big as saucers. He checked to see if he was chained to the bed. He saw no chains; no manacles; no ropes - nothing. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. There was no charm to stop him from doing that. Then again, he couldn't remember why he was expecting one. "I didn't mean to," he said, slowly shaking his head. "I thought he was trying to kill me."

"Of course he was trying to kill you," rasped the Dark Lord, his words slithering up Harry's spine. "He was a spy. He knew you are the greatest asset to our fight, and so he tried to get rid of you." His long, white finger caressed Harry's feverish temple.

Harry looked down. The words made sense. Something in the back of his head was shouting, but he couldn't make out the words. He got up and stood beside his - _what was he to him?_ His Mentor. Yes, that made sense as well.

Voldemort smiled again and pointed to a large wardrobe by the far wall. "Get dressed," he suggested. "And then join me at the reception hall. There will be a servant outside waiting to escort you there."

"Thank you," Harry expressed his gratitude. "I will."

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Hermione lay on her side, curled up into a tiny ball, shivering against the cold flagstones. There was a grate in the otherwise bare dungeon room where she was held, but the embers in it had all turned to ashes. It had been hours since Pettigrew had put the fire out. At the time, she had been happy he did. The images he had showed her had been horrible.

She had first seen Ron, sitting comfortably with a group of Death Eaters, happily reading about himself in the front page of yesterday's Daily Prophet. That had been bad enough, but in some remote corner of her mind, she had expected that. Much worse was Harry.

He was talking to the Dark Lord. She couldn't understand a word they were saying. They weren't using English. They were hissing Parseltongue at each other. Their rasping, wheezing voices sounded threatening, but their behaviour was something else. By how friendly they were towards each other, it made sense that they would use a language preserved only for the darkest wizards. Harry seemed almost happy. He was certainly obedient.

Then came Draco's turn. This was the worst of all. Harry was her best friend; the great hope of the wizarding world; a tremendous loss for their side. But Draco was the one she loved. She felt her heart torn out of her chest and stomped upon by a herd of Death Eaters. Actually, one Death Eater was all it took; the one Draco was talking to; the one he was so warmly embracing; the one he was supposed to hate with a passion: his father. She thought he had tried to kill her love. How wrong she was. Pettigrew had explained the charade to her. They had just needed to buy a little more time with Harry. Time to make him understand to which side he belonged. Now that he had seen the light, or rather, the darkness, there was no need to put on a show any longer. Draco had a lot of catching up to do with his old man.

Hermione wasn't even aware that she was crying. She just noticed the wet puddle under her face. And then, she sat up, wiping her damp cheek with her sleeve. Comprehension decorated her face like golden sparks on a fairy's wings. Of course. How come she hadn't thought of that before? She was almost willing to accept the fact that Ron had turned over. She knew it was possible Draco had fooled her, although it pained her horribly to accept that as an option. But Harry - there was no power in the world that could make Harry switch sides. Not of his own free will.

Holding on to that thought, she smiled.

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Even before he opened the door to his chambers, he knew she would be waiting for him in there. His master had told him she would, and his master never lied. His methods were highly controversial, but he was a man true to his word. Well, not exactly a man. He was _something_ true to its word.

And there she was, lying comfortably on his large four-poster, still wearing the skimpy leather outfit Draco had put her in. Her long black curls were spread under her thin hourglass figure. She propped herself on one elbow as he entered, and offered him a sheepish smile.

"Saitaina," Ron said in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and made his way towards her. The long walk allowed him to wash his eyes with the lovely sight of her. Like the rest of the room, she was all black and white. Her pale skin matched the heavy white drapes perfectly, and contrasted the ebony bed. He sat on the decorated floor, very close to her, their faces separated by only a few inches of crisp air.

"I missed you," she said.

"We hardly even met," Ron frowned at her.

"I still missed you." She moved her body on the bed, getting even closer to him. "I've never seen anyone fight quite like you. You got at least five people down before they managed to curse you."

"Ten." Ron smiled at her. "And I let them get me. That was the deal."

"That was very brave." She looked at him with admiration.

Ron brushed a stray curl away from her eyes and left his hand on the side of her face. He felt he'd earned this pleasant respite. He had spent the entire morning recovering from Harry's nasty curse. He felt lucky to have survived it, and wanted to get the best of every moment he had. She raised herself higher on her elbow, putting her chest against his, allowing their cheeks to touch.

Ron became drunk with her scent. There was a taste of honey in his mouth and he felt surrounded by a cloud of golden sparks. He had to have more of her. He sank his face in the hollow of her neck and began kissing her, slowly working his way towards her bare shoulders and then lower...

She rolled on her back, gently prodding him to follow, and he did, while still covering her with kisses. The honey-taste increased by order of magnitude with every kiss. And with every whiff of her scent, everything but her was wiped away from his thoughts. She was all that existed in the world.

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"You called, My Lord?"

"Indeed I have, my dear Wormtail." The venom in the Dark Lord's voice sounded even more vicious than ever. The small man recoiled before his master. "What is this thing, _Wormtail_?" The Master pointed towards his silver grate.

Wormtail looked at it and shrivelled some more. He would have changed places with anyone right now. Even that unlucky Muggle-born girl he had just left. Between the green tongues of fire, he could see the image of two grown men playing Exploding Snap. Their pack of cards exploded as he tried to think of an explanation. "Those are Black and Fletcher, Master," he said bluntly.

"Are they, Wormtail?" the hissing grew louder. "Are you sure? Because the _real_ Black and Fletcher are supposed to be -" He stopped to move closer to his loyal servant making the last word whiz into his ear, "Dead".

"Yes, My Lord," whimpered the hunched servant, "They should have been -"

"They look very alive to me!" The Dark Lord cut him off. "What happened while I was taking care of the Potter boy?"

"I have no idea, My Lord."

"_Crucio_," said the Master, his eyes glittering.

Wormtail squirmed and screeched. His body twisted, jerking around the room while he screamed his lungs out. Eventually, the fire in the Dark Lord's eyes subsided, and he let his wand down, leaving his servant panting on the floor.

When Wormtail failed to move, Voldemort gave him a brutal kick in the side of his ribcage. "Get up," he said harshly.

"Y - yes, Master," stammered Wormtail, using his silver arm to push himself off the hard pavement.

The Dark Lord pushed his wand under the unsteady man's chin and pulled him up. He continued to lift, until Wormtail was forced to stand on his tiptoes to look into his master's slit pupils. "I want you to get me Snape," he said, and with one swift motion removed his wand, causing Wormtail drop back to the floor.

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The door to her dark dungeon cell opened to reveal a line of twilight sunrays. Someone walked in. Although his face was hidden in the shadows, Hermione recognised him immediately by the crown of white-silver hair on his head. "Draco," she said, getting up.

After what she'd seen that morning, she was hesitant, but his moves were full of confidence. He crossed the room in two strides and held her tight to him, kissing her at length. His kiss was harsh, and while it still held the ability to melt her completely, something was amiss.

She pushed him gently, signalling that she wanted a short break, but his kisses just grew hungrier. She pushed a little harder, but to no avail. Eventually, she struggled out of his hands, using her fingernails to assist her.

Draco stood in front of her, one hand on his slightly bleeding neck, a lot more blood in his eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked in an icy voice. "I though you wanted me. We're just picking up where we stopped in the Forest."

"Not like this, I don't," Hermione answered, still trying to figure out if this was the real him. _Was he putting an act then, or was he, too, under the Imperius Curse or some Confundus Charm?_

"Sure you do," he mocked, taking her in his arms again, this time pinning her arms to the sides of her body. It took her knee, well aimed, to get out of his grip.

"You ungrateful little Mudblood!" he shouted in rage. He slapped her hard across the face, sending her, tousle-haired and bleeding, to the floor. Hermione put her hand over her throbbing cheek. _This method isn't working_, she thought. _I'm never going to get him to listen to me like this, I must think of another way._

Draco kneeled down next to her and pushed her hair out of her face. He moved his finger along the thin trickle of blood that ran down from the corner of her mouth. Then, he bent over, and kissed her again. Against her bruised lip, his firm kiss caused her pain, but she ceased her struggle. Instead, she pretended to accept him with open arms.

"That's much better," he drawled, and then went on with his assault.

She waited until he let go of her face and began moving downwards, allowing her to speak. "Draco, honey," she put all her will into making her voice sweet and unwavering. He made a muffled sound, a sign that he was listening. "Did you really mean what you said in the woods? The thing about respecting me?"

He raised his head just long enough to answer. "Of course I did." His fingers worked to undo the laces of her robes. Hermione breathed in relief, trying to ignore the waves of panic that spread from his hands where they violated her. If he still thought he was acting the same way he had in the Forbidden Forest, then there was no doubt someone had control over his mind. Now, the only question was how to break the spell.

She allowed her hands to roam his robes, searching for his wand, trying to smother the increasingly frequent shudders.

She began unbuttoning his inner layers, searching for hidden pockets. Finally, she found what she was looking for in his left side chest pocket. Her hand closed on it, and she began pulling it cautiously, hoping that in his passionate streak, Draco wouldn't notice her slow-moving hand.

But he did. His hand moved as quickly as a Billywig on the attack. He tore the wand out of her hand, jumped to his feet and pointed it to her. "Trying to curse me, are you?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Not at all," Hermione said, trying to contain her creeping fear. "I was just trying to add some spice to our little union."

"What kind of spice?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"Give me your wand and I'll show you."

"You know, for a witch who's supposed to be smart, you're not that bright," Draco sneered. "You should have known I wouldn't give you my wand."

Hermione sat up, thinking hard. "I just wanted to put an increased-sensor charm on us," she gave the first thing that came into her mind and also made some sense. The very first thing she though of, and immediately pushed away, had absolutely no value in the situation. What would he want with a hex that caused even the hottest shower to feel freezing cold for a week?

"All right," he said, his eyes bright. "Give me the words of the spell, and I'll put it on us."

Hermione nodded obediently. "But first, you have to finish any spell there is on us."

"I'm not under any spell." He looked at her as if she had just suggested something very obscene.

"It's just a safety guard," she insisted. "In case there's some residue of an old spell." She talked quickly, seeing him lose his patience. "The results could be horrific otherwise."

"If you insist." With a mocking look on her, he pointed his wand to himself and said, "_finite incantatem_." His dismissing smile instantly disappeared, replaced by a very surprised, very pale face. He sat down hard, his wand rolling away from him, clattering on the rough stone floor.

Hermione moved beside him and held his shaking figure tight, willing his shiver to stop. It took several minutes before he was able to speak. "What happened?" he asked.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"We were fighting Dr Branford and the Death Eaters he brought with him. Ron and I linked, and I could sense he was working against us." His effort to remember was visible. "He was trying to kill Harry!" he looked at her, overexcited.

Hermione held him again, whispering soothing words in his ear. "What happened then?" she asked once he was calm again.

"I had the weirdest dream," he said, frowning. "I was talking to my father, and then I was with you -" he stopped, his voice deepening, "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

"No."

He pushed her away gently, scanning her bruised face. "Oh my God," he breathed. "I'm _so_ sorry."

"That's all right." She smiled at him tenderly.

Draco shook his head. "That's not all right at all. I never would have - I didn't mean to - Oh my God," he repeated.

"I know, I know," she said, patting his head as it rested on her shoulder. "Don't worry. Everything is just fine, now that you're back."

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The large room looked more like a seclusion chamber for couples than a school infirmary. Severus Snape looked through the window at the clouds, coloured red by the setting sun. Very little snow was left on the grounds, and if there were to be no snow the day after, the Quidditch pitch would be completely cleared. He brought his attention back to the room, and creased his nose at the sight.

Krum sat on Cho's bed where her pillow should have been. She rested her head on his knees and enjoyed his fingers, as they moved on her forehead. Ginny and Lee were sound asleep on the bed next to them. Ginny was curled up like a ball, and Lee held her from behind. Some of her ginger hair fell over his face, and he sniffed occasionally in his sleep, trying to get rid of the tickle.

Most bold of all were Sirius and Arabella, who had been necking incessantly for at least an hour. Their behaviour seemed revolting to Severus. The only reason he stayed around was that it made them uncomfortable, although they overcame their discomfort quite well.

Severus' forearm sent an unexpected pang through his body. Biting his lips, he folded up his sleeve, knowing that everyone present was either aware of his dark background, or too busy to notice. The Dark Mark was pitch black against his skin; he was being called.

Unfolding his sleeve, his face a shade paler than before, Severus headed for the infirmary door. The headmaster should be notified before he left. To his not so great surprise, the door opened before he could reach it. Dumbledore was known for his impeccable timing. It was either that, or the fact that they had set to meet there at about that time. Lupin was right at the headmaster's heels.

Dumbledore read the expression on Severus' face and required no further explanations. "Were you given a reason?" he asked.

"None."

"This may have to do with the children," Dumbledore suggested gravely. "They may have been captured again."

The last remark caught Sirius' attention, and he sat up in his bed, looking at the two conversing men. "I'd like to come," he said. "Harry is my godson. He's my responsibility."

"That's a fantastic idea, Black," Snape said sarcastically. "Oh, look Master, I'm a loyal Death Eater, I just happen to be escorted by Sirius Black. I think he'd love that."

"There must be a way I could help you."

"There is none." Severus enjoyed seeing Sirius' defeated face. "I'll bring your precious godson back safely. He and his friends will be fine." With a nod from Dumbledore, he approached the open infirmary door.

"Snape," Sirius called to his back. Severus turned to face the noticeably uneasy man. "Thanks."

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"Hullo, Draco." A sweet feminine voice greeted Draco as he entered his chambers. 

After the Confundus Charm had been removed, he had hardly been able to remember where his chambers were, or what they looked like, but resolving not to let anyone know that he was no longer under the spell, he had somehow managed.

Now that he had entered his chambers, he wasn't at all surprised by the heavy green drapes, the quaint pine-wood furniture and the silver brackets that went all around the room, carrying odd-looking torches. He was just overwhelmed by how vast the room was and how many tall silver-decorated doors led to more of his rooms.

He wheeled around to the speaker. Saitaina was still in the mocking leather outfit he had charmed on her. He thought it would prevent her from going out of her secluded room. Obviously, he had been profoundly wrong. She was lying on her side on his velvety bedcover, giving him a seductive smile.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, trying not to sound too sober.

"I wanted to see you, maybe play a little game." Her voice was purring and held an intense promise. As he made no move towards her, she got up from the bed, presenting her legs to their full length in the process. Draco stood stock still, watching her cat-like motions, as she got closer to him. She didn't stop when their bodies met, as if she was a passion-stricken ghost trying to pass through him.

Draco took a step back, and then another, and when he tried to move further away from her unrelenting advance, he found his back pressed to the wall. With some difficulty, he managed to squeeze his hand between their bodies, getting a handful of exactly what he was trying to avoid. Before he managed to push her away, she had already pressed her cheek against his, her hair covering half of Draco's face.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to chase away the thoughts of how inappropriate it was to push a woman. The smell of her hair filled him with intoxicating fumes, penetrating every corner of his consciousness. He felt himself drown in her bittersweet scent. He was giddy and happier than he'd ever been. All other thoughts were wiped out of his head, and he was hers.

She tilted her head back readily, and he took her invitation, kissing her like he'd never kissed before - or had he? Something was nagging in the back of his mind. Something important. He kissed her again, passionately, and whispered her name - Hermione. At that moment, he knew what it was that bothered him. He held her shoulders firm and tore her away. He looked at her closed eyes and her lips, searching for him. She was achingly pretty, but she wasn't his Hermione.

Draco shook his head as the fumes began to clear, but she was there again, for another assault on his senses. This time, a familiar and not necessarily welcome voice jerked him out of the trance.

"What are you doing with my girl, Malfoy?" bellowed Ron.

Saitaina turned towards the angry boy, swearing furiously under her breath. He was standing in the open doorway. Neither Draco nor Saitaina had bothered to close the door, each for a different reason. All Ron had to do was walk by Draco's chambers to see the two of them, as busy as they were. Draco heard Saitaina mutter something beyond the flow of obscene words. He couldn't make out the irritated words, but he could see, very clearly, that she moved a well-manicured nail over her arm, lingering briefly on the Dark Mark she was bearing.

Before Ron managed to step into the room, he was flanked on either side by a gorgeous girl. Draco's jaw dropped when he realised that both wore the same tiny outfit he had arranged for Saitaina. His little gag turned into their official uniform. The two girls bore a remarkable resemblance to Saitaina, with their almond-shaped aquamarine eyes and their cat-like posture. The only significant difference was that they were blonde.

Ron was momentarily taken aback, and that was enough for the girls. Saitaina left Draco's arms and whispered something in Ron's ear. She made sure Ron's face was buried deep in her hair, and that he was getting lungfulls of her scent. Then, she stepped back and allowed the two blondes to do the same. "Ron, I would like you to meet Jeralyn and April," she said as they introduced their advantages to him. "They will keep you entertained while I'm busy."

Ron nodded, wearing a muddled simper and walked out, a hand around each blonde. Saitaina swivelled the door on its hinges, leaving it open only a crack. She turned back to Draco, but he was quicker. He stretched his arm in front of him, stopping her advancement.

At that moment, he was sure he heard Hermione. Her voice was too far to make out what she was saying, but it was hers. Draco perked his ears to try and hear more, and completely missed Saitaina as she circled around his outstretched arm, attaching herself to his other arm.

"It's the second door on the left," said a different voice, closer to Draco's rooms as Saitaina began to spread tiny butterfly kisses all over his face. Draco held his breath, not knowing whether it was to avoid the girl's toxic scent or out of anticipation. The door opened wide, and there was Hermione, held by the elbow by a Death Eater.

"Oh, young Master Malfoy, I wasn't aware that you were already with a girl," said the masked wizard. I was told to bring you entertainment."

Draco took a step towards the door, releasing himself from Saitaina's arms, which were wrapped around him by then. But he was too late. Hermione had already wriggled out of the dark wizards' grip and rushed down the corridor. Draco tried to race after her, but both Saitaina and the escorting Death Eaters grabbed him and hauled him back to his chambers.

"You're too busy serving your master now to care about a Mudblood girl," said the Death Eater in what seemed like a true attempt to convince the struggling boy. Draco knew he had lost, and stopped fighting. If he was to ever be able to get Hermione out of this place, he needed to keep his cool.

He took a few deep, comforting breaths, accidentally taking in a full dose of Saitaina's hair. He took her in his arms, ignoring the retreating observer and commenced kissing her with the same passion they shared before they were interrupted.

To his great surprise, she broke off contact. "You're obviously not interested," she said with poise. She left the room faster than his giddiness left him. 

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Harry felt extremely elegant in his new, exquisite clothes. He was given trousers made of Graphorn-hide, processed to a fine, downy material that created the softest thing he had ever worn. That excluded the one time he had been given Dudley's three-sized too big paisley undershirt, but it was almost immediately taken away from him, because such fine clothes did not become him, even if Dudley brimmed over all of its edges.

The black trousers were accompanied by a matching robe, held in the front with a silver clasp shaped like a serpent. There was a wand waiting for him on a small table next to the wardrobe. It wasn't his wand, but it was a marvellous substitute. It was mostly cherry, with the tips made of ebony. It was the same length as Harry's old wand and shot gold sparks as Harry gave it an experimental spin. A white mask lay by its side. Harry took it in his hand, pocketing the wand, and left the room.

As Voldemort had promised, there was a wizard waiting outside his room. Without uttering a word, the other wizard began walking as Harry stepped out. Harry followed him, and in a matter of minutes, they were surrounded by other wizards, all dressed in the same uniform.

Despite the identical robes, it was rather easy detecting Voldemort in the full room. While everybody's robes seemed pitch black, his were a shade darker. It seemed like darkness itself was defined by the shade that surrounded him.

Harry spent most of the afternoon with these wizards. They were all very helpful, very ready to answer all of his questions, and some questions that weren't his. They taught him the right order of the world. They explained to him the differences between purebloods and others. And he understood. He swallowed with thirst every drop of information they offered, and felt all the pieces of the puzzle of his life fall into place. He had a purpose; a mission; and he was going to carry it out to the best of his ability.

Voldemort came in and out of the gathering place all day long. Shortly after darkness had fallen, he entered the room, this time, followed by a huge snake. Harry recognised her as Nagini, and smiled, remembering their last conversation, when he was still under the delusion of the importance of equal rights, and she still thought humans where the only edible meat.

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder, and Draco's voice spoke to him from behind a mask. "I have something to give you, Potter. Something that will open your eyes."

"What is it?" Harry asked excitedly. He had been shown so many new things that day, he was sure Draco had more vital information to give him. More rationalisations he never would have listened to when Dumbledore and his assistants kept him away from the truth.

"This," said Draco. He pointed his wand to Harry, only its tip visible under his robes. Harry felt momentary alarm, but it changed into full-scale panic as Draco said the words of the spell, simple and dry. "_Finite incantatem._"

Harry felt weak and confused. He raised his hand to his scar, barely aware of his legs, which began to betray him. Draco supported him in the least observable manner possible. "Don't say a word," he whispered in his ear. "You were under the Confundus Charm. You though you were a Death Eater. If you pretend to still be under the spell, we may be able to get out of here alive."

Harry looked to his supporter, his mind still in a cloud of random memories and fragments of dreams. He looked at the gathering room around him and shivered wildly. "We're in a room full of Dark Wizards," he whispered to Draco, as if the other boy could have missed that fact.

"I know," Draco said, beginning to sound irritated. "Now, pull yourself together. You'd think this is the first time you've been in this situation." Harry winced at the mention of his other encounters with large groups of Death Eaters and their master. He flinched further when he saw that very master beckoning him from across the room.

"Go to him," said Draco, pushing Harry slightly. "And act like you worship the ground he walks on." Harry could not see Draco's face through the mask, but he could imagine the anticipation on it.

Harry staggered the first few steps, and then managed to walk the rest of the way somewhat steadily. He poised himself beside Voldemort, squinting at the huge heap of coils at his feet. "Yes - Master," he mumbled.

"We will be having supper shortly," said the Dark Lord. "I would like you to sit by my side." Harry waited. This close proximity to the murderer of his parents made Harry's scar throb with pain. He almost put his hand to it, but caught himself in time.

Voldemort seemed to want to make Harry feel welcome. "Have you had a good day?" he asked.

"Er - yes." Under the penetrating gaze of the scarlet eyes, he recognised that this was not sufficient. "I've learned a lot today," he added.

"Like what?" Voldemort hissed.

Harry tried to recall something from that day, but everything seemed like a dream that was escaping him like quicksilver. "The reasons we are better than Mug - Mudbloods," he eventually offered. He looked up and met another anticipating look. Nevertheless, he could not think of anything else to say.

"Very well," said the Dark Lord in a shrill voice. "Then you will probably be more than happy to use this new knowledge and prove your loyalty to me at the same time." Harry felt his heart beating faster as he made a feeble nod with his head. Voldemort made a similar motion towards the guard by the door, who opened it in response to the gesture.

Harry felt as if his worst nightmare had come true. He saw Hermione being dragged into the room, held fiercely by Lucius Malfoy on one side and Dr Branford on the other. He heard two words being hissed into his ear without further introduction. "Kill her."

Harry paled. He suddenly remembered he got to that position by killing Ron and turned even whiter. He fumbled in his pockets, trying to keep his shiver under control. He felt the phoenix feather in one pocket, and it gave him an idea. He kept searching, as if he'd found nothing. He locked eyes with Hermione, willing her to _know _that he would never hurt her.

"This isn't my wand," Harry said to the Dark Lord, raising his new cherry wand to their eye level. "For maximum result, I need my wand."

Voldemort sneered, which was a particularly intimidating sound, given his serpentine features. "Oh, with your MQ, you probably don't need a wand at all," he spat. "I'm sure your killing curse will have enough force behind it even with this wand." He glared at Harry as the latter kept the wand in the displaying position. "After all, you didn't use a wand at all when you put the curse on Weasley."

"I didn't use that curse on Ron," Harry choked out. "I just didn't have control without my wand."

"That's all right," said Voldemort, the slits that were his nostrils expanding. "What's the worst that could happen? You cannot kill her twice."

Harry spun slowly, lowering his wand to the Dark Lord's chest as he did. "I will not kill her even once," he said obstinately. "_Stupefy_." 

Voldemort gave him a cruel smile, his face twisted with anger. "I figured something like that might happen," he hissed. Harry felt his hands being grabbed by someone behind him but offered no resistance. In a room full of Dark wizards, overcoming two or three of them would make no difference.

"Tell me," Voldemort whispered in his ear, making waves of chill go down Harry's spine. "How did you break the spell? Did you have help? Is your irksome godfather, Black, hiding here somewhere?"

"I don't need help to resist your spells," said Harry, setting his chin. "I broke out of your Imperius Curse before."

"Yes, yes, you have," muttered Voldemort. His eyes shot sparks at Harry. Then, his face lit up once more. He reached into his robes and pulled out a wand. At first, Harry thought he recognised Voldemort's wand, but a second glance revealed the bitter truth. That wand was his. "Is this what you wanted?" Voldemort jeered. "It will give me great pleasure to kill your friend with it." 

For that, Harry was willing to risk being zapped by numerous curses. He struggled out of his captor's grip and jumped Voldemort, only to be hit by the Cruciatus Curse that was already waiting on the Dark Lord's lips.

Tottering away from the source of the curse, Harry lost his grip on reality and sank into a place of flesh-tearing spikes and white-hot iron bars, all working together to turn him into a bloody pulp. When the pain was raised from him, he was on his knees, his face wet and his once airy robes stuck to his skin. He realised that the echo in his ears was that of his on screams.

Harry raised tired eyes to his torturer and waited, using the time to relax his muscles and wet his dry lips. He wanted to see how Hermione was doing, but couldn't find her, as she had probably been taken away from the room. Voldemort seemed bored with him. He kept his eyes on Harry, but his attention was given to a tall Death Eater who was whispering in his ear. "Well done," he said to his the lanky masked wizard. "You will be rewarded for this."

"Well, Potter," Voldemort said, his attention back on Harry. "It seems that you're not immune to the killing curse after all. You used a trick the last time we met. It was shrewd, I'll grant you that, but a trick nonetheless."

Harry looked into the scarlet slits that were glaring at him. He put all his willpower into one single wish. His mind commanded Voldemort not to know about the phoenix feather. _Let him think of something else, please._

"It seems that Dumbledore's pet bird gave you a feather," Voldemort rasped, looking satisfied as Harry's face visibly fell. Then, his tone changed to a deep ominous hiss. "Give it to me."

Scrambling to his feet, Harry reached into his robes for what was left of the feather. He didn't think it could still function, not even as a crude replacement for a wand, but he held it tight and pointed it at Voldemort. The effect was somewhat diminished by the way it fell over his hand, looking as effective as a dead flower.

"_Incendio_," Voldemort muttered, turning the last of the feather into a faint ash mark on the back of Harry's hand. Harry opened his fist and looked into it. The only thing left from the feather was a fresh burn mark over what he knew from Divination as his life line.

"Do you have more of these hidden about your robes?" Voldemort sneered.

"Maybe," Harry said vaguely. He thought that this idea enough was reason to smile, he just couldn't work his facial muscles that way.

Voldemort, on the other hand, had no problem smiling, or at least making as good impression of a smile as his inhuman features allowed. "_Diffindo_," he said with a wave of Harry's wand.

Harry heard a terrible ripping sound and felt his robes fall from him, dropping at his feet in wide stripes of black fabric, wet with his sweat. He shivered from the cold, but held his upright posture.

Voldemort raised the wand for another swing and Harry prepared himself for whatever there was to come, but the Dark Lord lowered the wand, his smile widening. "This is useless," he said. "You could plant fragments of feathers in places I would never reach." Harry thought back to the time Sirius had a Portkey hidden in his hair. He had used it to save his life then. He wished he had thought of bringing some of Fawkes' feathers with him, but even the single feather he'd had was the result of a random incident.

"I have something better planned for you," Voldemort went on. "A much slower death. Yes," he drawled, "That would give me great pleasure. Nagini," he turned to the heap of coils and scales at his feet. The enormous snake perked its head. "Meet your next meal."

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius was the first to dismiss Snape's request to go alone as arrogant, dangerous, and downright stupid. While they may not have agreed with all the expressions he'd used to describe the Potions Master, everyone present had their minds set on helping him, especially after he'd saved Sirius' and Mundungus' lives.

But first, they needed to find out where he had gone. For that purpose, Arabella dashed after him as he left, ordering the others to stay where they were. She caught up with him only a few seconds before he disapparated, but that was sufficient. She managed to put a pursuing spell on him before he disappeared.

Having accomplished that, she needed to hurry. Marking the spot outside the school grounds and surrounding it with magic-fortifying wards, so that the pursue spell wouldn't fade too quickly, she rushed back to the infirmary. To her great relief, she didn't have to go far. The others were already on their way to her. With some satisfaction, she noted that Viktor Krum had joined their original group. Lee and Victor were an injection of fresh spirit into their old gang. She, Sirius, Remus and Mundungus had always worked well together, but this was a very welcome change. 

She and Sirius worked together inside the ward she had built, using their wands to stretch the very fabric of the known universe. It was quite expected that Snape would Apparate right into the centre of a Death Eaters infested area. They worked to change the Apparation point to two miles northwest of the original point Snape had used. That would give them a relatively safe distance, while not causing a great delay in case he needed their help.

Apparating into one of the areas controlled by the Dark Lord was always a risk, but one they were willing to take at that stage, although his Apparation-detection spells had been known to cover areas as large as fifteen square miles. Apparating to the unknown was an even greater risk, as they found out shortly after.

They fell right into inky black water with no land in sight. Holding themselves above water level with only the strength of their arms, they contemplated Apparating to someplace with solid ground, but decided against it. Their options were not appealing - it was either choosing someplace closer to Snape's original goal, where they were sure to be discovered, or giving up on the mission, which they were not willing to do just yet. Returning home in shame seemed more compelling after they had to defeat a medium-sized Kelpie, but at least they knew that the swim could not be longer than two miles.

And so, they headed southeast, until their tired legs were torn by sharp rocks that announced the solid ground. A moment later, they were all crouched on the shore, panting, reminding each other not to use detectable drying or cramp easing charms.

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry was directed at wand-point into a pleasant looking hexagonal room. All six walls had beautiful oriental carpets decorating them, and none of the walls bore a window. A matching rug covered the floor, edging to a close fit with his suspending brothers. Six large torches hung, one in every corner, lighting the carpets in crimson and yellow. A large candelabrum hung high above the room, pouring soft white light into it. Despite its relatively small size and the lack of windows, the air was fresh and crisp. This could have been a very nice room, had it not been for the giant snake.

Harry heard the door lock behind him. He felt recovered enough to try some magic, and between the snake and the Death Eaters outside, he preferred to take his chances where defeat didn't necessarily mean he'd be eaten. He put his hand over the door and willed it to open, whispering "_Alohomora_" with concentrated intent. 

The door stayed firm in place. Harry tried again, putting everything he had into it, but the heavy iron plate wouldn't even vibrate. Harry spun slowly, until he had his back to the door and his eyes locked on the other occupant of the room. The serpent uncoiled itself lazily and began slithering towards him.

Harry felt the cold metal pressing into his bare shoulder blades, but he was too worried about the snake to wince from the chill. "A little too lean for my taste," it hissed as it got closer.

Harry made an involuntary snorting sound. "Then why don't you eat a duck instead," he said ironically. The snake stopped its advance and raised his head to level with Harry's. It gave him a long, blood-curdling look.

"You're the talking boy," it hissed. "You're the one who told me about the human's food." Its hiss was angry, and Harry felt that that if it were a dragon, it would have spat fire by then. He decided that the best approach was to keep quiet, but then realised that the creature was about to eat him, and changed his mind.

"Did you try it?" Harry asked. "The human food, I mean."

"Yes," the snake answered curtly.

"And? Did you like it?"

"The one duck I had was good." The memory of the taste seemed to make the snake click its fangs to its lower jaw. It lowered its head a tad, working its jaw a few inches from Harry's exposed chest. "My master won't allow me to have any more."

"Why?" Harry asked before stopping to think.

The snake's head lowered in what looked like a downcast spirit. "So I will work up an appetite if he ever needs me to eat a human." Then, it perked up and looked Harry in the eye again. "I finally have a human," it hissed.

Harry watched the creature's forked tongue flick in and out of its mouth. He turned his head from the sight. The snake was so close to him that he felt the tongue's cutting edge lash at his cheek. He thought of Hermione and what would become of her after Voldemort got rid of him. His thoughts travelled to Ron - his best friend whom he'd killed. "It's not fair," he breathed.

"What's not fair?" spat the oversized monster, retreating ever so slightly.

Harry thought quickly. "Not fair that you have to go hungry for the infrequent events that Voldemort needs you," he said. He could have sworn that the snake flinched at the name just like almost everybody else. "You can kill your victims easily even when you're stuffed."

The instant the words came out of his mouth, Harry wished he hadn't said them. When locked in a room with a giant snake, the last thing he wanted to do was to remind it how lethal it really was. But the serpent didn't seem to notice Harry's slip. On the contrary - it let its head drop to the carpet with a soft thud. "That's what I told him," it said with a barely audible wheeze.

Harry felt so sorry for it that he wanted to feed it, until he remembered what its food was and winced. He slid down along the door until he was seated, and gazed at the miserable-looking heap of coils. "What spell is Voldemort using to bond you to him?" His curiosity got the better of him.

The snake raised its eyes to Harry, its head hovering an inch above floor level. "Spell? There's no spell."

"Then why are you serving him?"

"Because," the snake sounded irritated. "He's the only one I can talk to."

"Er..." Harry ventured.

"Oh," hissed the snake. "That's an interesting point you're raising."

"Er..." Harry repeated. He slapped himself on the forehead. _Snap out of it_, he told himself._ What are you trying to do? Prove that Voldemort _is_ the only parselmouth around?_ "You can always talk to me," he managed to say eventually, concentrating firmly on using the right language.

"If I go with you, will I be able to eat as many ducks as I want to?" The snake made an assessment of its options.

"Sure," said Harry enthusiastically. "Duck, chicken, turkey -"

"Just duck," the snake interrupted. "Do you know where to get them?

The image of Dobby the house-elf jumped into Harry's mind. "Yes," he said without a doubt to litter his voice. Again, he was reminded of his two best friends and their petty bickering over the House-Elf Liberation Front. He felt a tear begin to form at the corner of his eye, knowing that he would never see Ron again.

"And you will not mind that I eat them?"

"Not at all. You'll be able to eat as often as you like," Harry said reassuringly. Something nudged at the back of his mind. He tried to ignore it, but couldn't. "You will not be allowed to eat humans, though," he said with a sigh, dreading the consequences of that statement.

"Not even ones that are already dead?"

"No."

"But I will be able to eat ducks all the time?" The tone of this question reminded Harry of a child negotiating a lollypop.

"All the ducks you can contain."

"Good," determined the snake. It made its way towards Harry again, but there was no threat in his moves. "I'm cold, you don't mind, do you?" Its smooth skin glided up Harry's arm. Harry felt a chill as the cold-blooded creature sought his warmth. His back got pressed against the metal door, under the load of the large snake.

"Maybe, if I just -" Harry shifted a bit under the heavy burden. "If I can just reach the -" The snake rose to allow Harry freedom of movement. "That's better." Harry relaxed, leaning against one of the padded walls. The serpent's weight on his chest made him sink into the soft fabric.

Like a thick duvet in the winter, Harry's warmth fed into the snake, eventually coming back to him. Feeling comfortable and rather content with himself, Harry fell asleep, his breaths in rhythm with his new companion's ones. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Open the door in the name of the Dark Lord."

The masked wizard who was standing by the grey door took out his wand and tapped it at the heavy iron, muttering a few words.

The door opened to a dreadful sight. Dismissing the guard, Draco stepped in and bolted it behind him. Nagini was fed now, and posed no danger. It was so full that the remenants of her prey lay on the carpet, the abnormally large snake guarding them with her body. Come morning, he'd been sent to retrieve the Dark Lord's pet, but he wanted a few moments alone with the memory of the boy who had been his foe and then became his friend.

He already felt like he'd lost Hermione. He took his first chance to visit her in her cell, and she had let him in. Of course, she didn't have much choice in the matter. She could, however, choose whether to talk to him or not, and she chose not. Draco had tried explaining to her the exact nature of his relationship with Saitaina, or the lack thereof, but she kept her back turned to him. Eventually, he'd given up and went away.

Draco walked gingerly towards the coiled snake and what was left of her meal. He expected to see blood and gore smeared all over the rug, but there was none. He assumed that the monster had taken care of that. He kneeled by her side, knowing from experience that snakes were very woozy after large meals. Harry's face was so tranquil, he looked like he was just sleeping... Draco sent his hand to tenderly move a stray lock of hair from Harry's face. "Harry," he whispered hoarsely.

And Harry opened his eyes.

Draco was so startled that he jumped a few feet back and then landed heavily on the carpet. He watched with wide eyes as Harry freed one hand from under the coils of the snake and then used it to push the snake off the rest of his body. The snake's scales had left odd-looking marks on his bare chest and arms.

Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses as if he'd just had a good night's sleep, which, apparently, was exactly the case.

"What happened?" Draco asked, gaping at the other boy.

"We were cold," Harry said defensively, still rubbing his eyes.

"No." Draco shook his head. "I mean, why didn't she eat you?"

"Oh, we talked."

"Talked?" Draco knew from second year that Harry was a parselmouth, but this was too fantastic to be real. "You mean you _talked_ her out of eating you?" to Harry's nod he said in a mocking voice, "Then you should choose her as your new best friend. Much better than the old hard-headed carrot."

To Draco's surprise, Harry launched at him with clenched fists. To his even greater surprise, he found himself slammed hard against the wall before the charging boy even threw the first punch. He knew very well that Harry possessed that power, he just never thought he'd see him use it. Not because of harmless jeer, anyway. "Are you mad?" he panted, raising his hands to protect his face from the boy, who looked furious.

"Don't you ever talk about Ron like that," Harry spat.

Draco knew that for his own safety, he'd better shut up, but he couldn't. "Why?" he asked.

"Such talk dishonours his memory," Harry said in a quivering voice. He fell to his knees in front of Draco, his shoulders shivering. "He was my best friend. The first friend I ever had."

"You met your first friend when you were eleven?" Draco asked, the odd fact momentarily distracting him. Harry looked up at him and said nothing. "You're talking about him as if he were dead," Draco said, returning to the subject at hand.

"How else would you have me talk about him?" Harry mocked, his face contoured with grief. "And I'm the one who killed him." His eyes flared with green fire as he raised them to Draco. "You said he was a traitor and I believed you. In the Link - I believed you, and you made me kill my best friend." He was shaking violently by the time he was done speaking.

"Well, you didn't kill him. He's working for You-Know-Who," Draco said, and immediately felt a strong pressure in his chest, like some giant was sitting on him. "Knock it off," he choked. The pressure eased somewhat and Draco coughed thankfully. "What did I say?" he asked defensively.

"You were telling lies!" Harry cried, sending Draco back into the wall.

"He's not dead!" Draco yelled with what breath he could manage. Feeling the crushing force ease a little, he repeated, "He's not dead," with a choked cough.

Harry staggered backwards and stumbled over the sleeping snake. She raised her hideous head and hissed. Remembering that she hadn't been fed after all, Draco cringed against his wall. He heard Harry hiss something back, which seemed to satisfy her, because she let her head rest on the carpet again, but she kept her eyes open.

"What did you say to Nagini?"

"I said that you don't mind ducks." Draco gave Harry a very confused look indeed. "Don't ask," Harry muttered. "What did you mean when you said Ron isn't dead? How do you know? Have you seen him? Where are they holding him?"

"They're not holding him anywhere," snarled Draco. "He's one of them now." Harry frowned, and Draco did _not_ want him to get angry again. "I've seen him," he said quickly and with passion. "He was snogging a brunette called Saitaina and then he left with two blondes." He realised that the implausibility of Ron being with three girls was enough to make Harry sceptical. "If I get him here, will you believe me?" he asked, jumping to his feet.

Harry lowered his chin in what could be interpreted as a nod but was more likely just a defeated gesture. Draco staggered out of the room, wondering how on earth he was going to get Ron there.

aaaaaaaaaa

Hagrid would never admit this to anyone, but he found the patrols in the Forbidden Forrest quite boring. Things hardly ever happened. He patted Fang's head and was sure the dog knew what was in his heart. They both seemed like they were going to fall asleep while walking.

He walked around the tree that marked the furthest point of his morning tour and realised someone else there with him. He turned towards the watching eyes, placing an arrow in his bow. "Show yer'self," he boomed.

Firenze stepped out from between the trees, holding a large stone basin. Hagrid breathed in relief, deciding that maybe being bored wasn't all that bad. "This belongs to your headmaster," said the centaur. "Take it to him. We've tried to give it to a group of your young, but they were stopped by soldiers of the Dark Lord."

"Harry?" Hagrid asked anxiously.

"The Potter boy was with them, yes," nodded Firenze. "Unfortunately, our wards only protected the Pensieve, but at least they don't have it, too"

Hagrid took the heavy stone container from Firenze, hoisting it like it was a model made of Styrofoam. He wanted to ask Firenze many more questions, but when he lifted his eyes, the centaur was already gone.

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco rapped on the door to Ron's chambers, and when there was no answer, he pushed it open and slid inside. There was someone in the bed, but the heavy drapes that covered the windows did not allow him to see the sleeping figure very clearly.

Draco crossed the room, his fingers closed around the wand in his pocket. He bent over the bed and looked into Saitaina's delicate face at exactly the moment she opened her eyes.

"Oh, hullo there," she said in a sleepy voice. "Did you pop out of my dream?"

Draco took a step back. "I'm looking for Weasley," he said, keeping his voice flat.

"Ron isn't here." She sat up in bed. The duvet fell off, revealing her wearing her gorgeous birthday suit.

Draco turned his eyes hurriedly away. "Where is he? I need to see him."

"I don't know," said Saitaina. Draco could almost hear the pout in her voice. "He hasn't been here since I sent him away so I could be with you. I waited for him until I fell asleep."

Draco sat heavily on the bed and let out a curse that should have made her blush, had she been a lady. Since she wasn't, she used the opportunity to wrap herself around him. He felt the influence of whatever passion charm she was using, but knowing the source of his sudden senselessness, he pushed her away.

She fell back onto the bed. "Ron would never treat me like this," she muttered, sounding hurt.

"He is an unfaithful git."

"He just enjoys being alive. Nothing wrong with that." she paused for a second and then added with a mutter, "I just with he hadn't enjoyed my distractions this much." She tried to kiss Draco again.

"You can stop that now," Draco spat. "Hermione isn't speaking to me. Your little plan worked perfectly."

Saitaina moved away, trying to look offended, but a little victorious smile played on he lips.

Draco turned his gaze to her, forgetting her unclad state for a second. "Get dressed," he ordered. "I have an idea."

"Usually the ideas men get around me do not include me getting dressed," she groaned.

Draco pulled an unmarked robe out of Ron's wardrobe. It was too long for Saitaina, but a quick shortening charm took care of that. "Put this on," he instructed, throwing her the robe. 

"It's crooked," she complained. "Your charm didn't work very well."

"You won't trip on it, that's good enough. Now let's go."

Draco hauled her towards the room that held Harry and Nagini. He tapped his wand on the door, wondering if he'd find the boy still in there. With the absence of the complex locking charm that was used during the night, Harry would have had no trouble opening the door. But Harry was there, and he was in exactly the same position he'd held when Draco had left him. He was crouched on his knees, his hands covering his face and his shoulders shaking. The only thing that had changed was the location of the snake, which was much closer to the crouched boy. 

As the door opened, Harry took his hands down and looked at the visitors. There was no sign of tears, but his eyes took the deepest shade of green Draco had ever seen. He suddenly understood what it meant to have fathomless grief.

"There's someone I want you to see," Draco said, ushering Saitaina towards the centre of the room. As reluctant as she was before, seeing the coiled snake made her resist more desperately.

"I think you're a bit confused, Malfoy. That's not Ron." Harry's words dripped of sarcasm, but his voice lacked feeling.

"This is Saitaina," Draco explained. "She's his girlfriend."

"I am not!" protested Saitaina. "We're just having some uncommitted fun."

"What do you mean _having_?" Harry asked, rising to his feet. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Oh, he didn't come back to his room last night." She sounded dejected. "Last I saw him was yesterday afternoon. He left with those two -" she made a visible effort to use a different word than the one she originally intended. "Blondes."

"You're lying," Harry spat through gritted teeth.

"Why should I?" she looked confused. "If I wanted to lie, I'd have said he was with me last night. No girl likes to admit she was stood up."

Harry ignored her and looked at Draco. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Isn't it enough that he's dead and I'm about to join him? Why do you have to add these false hopes? Why add to the torture?"

Draco wanted to tell Harry how wrong he was, but he was interrupted by four masked wizards who entered the room. "Our Lord would like to know what causes the delay," said the first of them.

"As you can see," drawled Draco, "We have a bit of a situation." He slipped his hand into his pocket without being noticed, and grabbed his wand. With Harry's help, four Death Eaters were nothing they couldn't manage. He drew his wand and jumped to Harry's side, firing a curse at one of the wizards.

The shot wizard fell to the carpet while the other three aimed their wands to him. Draco wondered what spell Harry was using. Whatever it was, it wasn't working very well. The three Death Eaters were still standing on their feet, and Saitaina had joined them, creating a square battle formation.

Draco nudged Harry's ribs, but the other boy was doing absolutely nothing to stop the now advancing attackers. Draco turned to him, gaping. "What is wrong with you?" he asked.

Harry didn't answer. He just shrugged and intensified his stare at his feet.

Draco turned his eyes to the menacing Death Eaters. He knew exactly what was expected of him. He also knew what were the consequences of not complying. Slowly, he relaxed the fingers of his left hand, allowing his wand to fall to the carpet. It landed soundlessly at his feet.

aaaaaaaaaa

It took Severus half the night to achieve information about the captured kids. The second half of the night. He'd spent the first half trying to convince the Dark Lord that saving Black and Fletcher was in their best interest. Of course, that was a difficult task, considering that he was defending a view that conflicted with his own. At least he was honest when he'd said he'd rather see Black dead. That honesty was probably what had won the argument.

From what he could gather, Potter was already lost to them and the other three were spread throughout the castle. He would have to wait for all of them to be in the same room if he wanted to have any chance to get them out. Rumours had it that Draco and Ron had both been converted to the dark arts. He could understand why his favourite student would want to follow in his father's footsteps, but Weasley just didn't seem to have what it took to be a Death Eater. He was probably held under some spell. Whatever it was, the two boys were expected in every assembly, and that included Hermione's execution, which was to be held that morning. Severus had decided on that as his opportunity to grab them all and run. He just needed to think up some distraction.

Walking idly along the castle corridors, racking his brain for a way to get the kids out, Severus passed by Ron, who was too busy kissing some blonde to notice him. Severus tried to use "_Finite Incantatem_" on him. He figured that it couldn't hurt to try. The spell had very little influence on the ginger boy. He had stopped necking the girl for no more than five seconds, raising his head and looking hazily around. Then, he returned to his previous occupation.

Severus went on with his search. He hadn't put too much hope in the spell anyway. Only a few minutes remained before the execution was to take place. Not that he liked the little know-it-all, but he headmaster would be very disappointed with him if he didn't save her.

Becoming increasingly desperate, Severus stepped over a line of dirt of the flagstones. it took a full minute before his brain compiled what that line was, and he hurriedly retraced his steps. He took a closer look at the thin streak of dirt. As he had suspected, that was no regular dirt. That was a trail left by an Ashwinder. He followed the tracks, erasing them with his foot as he went.

He reached a hidden hearth not far from where he'd started. A large couch hid it from view, allowing the Ashwinder to emerge from the unsupervised embers. To his great delight, there were several more tracks leading from the grate. He quickly followed every one of them, erasing the marks. He'd found brilliant red Ashwinder eggs at the end of each ashy trail, and made sure they could not be seen. He stopped at the last nest and decided that four Ashwinder nests were enough. Very well informed with the proper freezing spell, he cast it over the eggs, then collected them into his pocket. Those where useful in many potions, they were also a rare find, as wizards tended to take good care of their fires, to preserve that exact scarceness.

With the frozen eggs in his pocket and hope for a bonfire in his heart, Severus entered the gathering area.

aaaaaaaaaa

The room was swarming with masked wizards. Ron took his appointed position and waited. Soon they would bring Hermione in and the Dark Lord would demonstrate his powers on her. Ron felt a little sad. She had been his friend for over five years. He had even had a crush on her for some time. Watching her die would not be an easy thing.

Ron shook his head and tried to concentrate on the reasons that made him her superior. He was glad that Harry had been killed in private. That would have been really difficult for him. And Harry wasn't a Mudblood either, which made the reasoning even more difficult to come by.

Nagini slithered into the room, hissing and spitting. The lines of Death Eaters opened to allow the large snake to go through. Ron was very glad he wasn't standing in its path. The serpent was followed by six people. Ron gawked at them, assuming that his eyes were deceiving him. The first two were Harry and Draco. They were followed by his own lover, Saitaina and three more wizards, all holding their wands aimed at the boys' heads.

A loud murmur passed through the crowd as two more wizards entered the room, leading Hermione between them. Saitaina explained in a few words the events that had taken place in Harry's cell. Throughout all this, Harry kept his head bowed and seemed completely apathetic to his surrounding.

"Malfoy," hissed Voldemort.

Draco set his chin defiantly while his father approached his caller. "Yes Master," he growled.

"Lucius, it seems that your son has made a wrong choice." Voldemort whispered the words in his ear, but made the whisper loud enough for the entire convention to hear. Lucius seemed to be trying to hold back a wince.

"He is a disobedient, stubborn, ungrateful child, Master. Let me handle him. I'll beat some sense into his head."

Voldemort raised his wand and Draco fell like an autumn leaf - beautiful and soundless. "You may take him," he said, pointing his wand at the prone boy.

Lucius rushed to his son and checked his wrist. A relieved expression spread on his face. "Thank you, Master," he breathed.

"You _will_ repay for my mercy, of course. Not now, but you will."

"Yes Master," Lucius said solemnly. "I understand." He dragged his son to one of the far corners of the room, where he let him sleep off the effects of the spell, not before putting a full body bind on him.

As Hermione's guards were waiting with her by the door, Harry was left standing alone in the middle of a circle of Death Eaters. For some reason, he didn't seem concerned about this. He didn't even seem to have registered his situation.

"Potter!" The Dark Lord creaked. Harry raised his eyes to the source of voice. They were half-closed and completely empty. The bright emerald in his eyes had turned into mucky algae. 

"Beg for your life," ordered Voldemort. Harry didn't move. It wasn't of because of strong will. He just didn't seem to care. "I said, _beg_!" screeched the snake of a man. He waved his wand and Harry dropped to his knees, showing no signs of minding it. Getting increasingly exasperated, Voldemort hit him with the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry wriggled on the floor, at first screaming, and then, when he had no more strength to cry out, he just moaned. Ron felt a strong urge to rush to his aid, but he stopped himself, afraid of his master's wrath. He wanted to stop Harry's agony, but not by taking his place. He could see at least one of the Death Eaters fidget uneasily. The ones holding Hermione made a visible effort to hold her in place, as she kept struggling against their grip.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry stopped moving. Voldemort raised his wand, and the body of the tortured boy rose with it, like a marionette. He remained standing, his limbs dangling loosely, and his entire mass sagging. "Now, beg," Voldemort ordered again in a high-pitched hiss.

The new threat did not make Harry move. "You will die, boy," the Dark Lord warned. Harry shrugged without looking up. "Don't you care what happens to you?" Voldemort was so surprised that his voice sounded much less imposing than usual.

Harry shook his head. He looked at his palms, and for the first time since he was brought there, he spoke. His voice was cracked and low. "I killed my best friend. I don't care how I die."

The colour of Ron's face turned to an even paler shade than the mask hiding it. Harry didn't deem his life worthy of living because he thought he had killed him. He whisked the mask off his face, feeling the cold air hit his feverish skin. "I'm here," he called loud enough for Harry to hear. "I'm not dead." He pushed down his hood so Harry could better see his Weasley trademark. "Maybe I should be, but you didn't kill me."

Harry looked right at him. He squared his shoulders and raised his head. He looked very pale, but he also looked taller. Much taller. He moved his eyes to Voldemort, and so did Ron, waiting for the punishment that would surely come upon him.

But Voldemort chose to put a hold on Ron's punishment. He'd probably decided that a spirited Harry Potter was more dangerous than a Ron Weasley with a sudden change of heart. He aimed his wand directly at Harry, the killing curse beginning to form on his inhuman lips.

Ron didn't think. He acted out of pure instinct. He had tried the other side and had now renounced it. He could see his entire life in clear, vivid colours, and it led to one simple conclusion: he could not let his friend die. As Voldemort hissed the last syllable of the worst of the unforgivable curses, Ron jumped him. He grabbed the glowing wand with both hands and twisted it beyond the wood's elasticity. The wand snapped, and so did something inside of him.

aaaaaaaaaa

Severus was in the room even before Voldemort had arrived. He was waiting restlessly for the eggs to ignite. He didn't know how long it had been since the parent Ashwinder had laid the eggs, but he hoped it had been a while. The eggs were not supposed to take more than a few minutes to set fire to their nests, but this was a large castle, and it would take a while for the fire to spread.

He had been forced to watch Harry being put under the Cruciatus Curse until he had become completely paralysed with the pain. He didn't like the boy, but nobody deserved to be treated like that. He was worried for his health, both physical and mental. Stronger, more resistant wizards had lost their grip on reality, being tortured like that. On the other hand, only minutes before, he had thought him dead.

The Dark Lord was growing impatient with the lack of responsiveness from his famous captive. Severus tried to sniff the air for smoke, but smelled nothing. Harry might be dead before the fire reached there. He watched Draco stirring up into consciousness in the corner where his father had left him tied, but there was no doubt in his heart that Voldemort would not be as lenient when it came to Harry. He sniffed the air again, imagining to be getting the smell of something burning. If the eggs wouldn't ignite soon, there was nothing he could do for the boy.

Severus shook his head desperately as he saw Ron, Harry's best friend, rise to defy Voldemort. He cursed Ron's stupidity under his breath, knowing that he was as dead as the boy he was tying to save. Or, maybe not. As Harry seemed to regain his composure, Voldemort took action. He ignored Ron's insubordination and pointed his wand to Harry. The words of the curse as well as the bolt of fire that began to form at the tip of his wand bore a dreadful familiarity. "_Avada Kedavra_," he heard the Dark Lord hiss, and closed his eyes.

The explosion that followed was not familiar at all. He'd seen the curse being put to use too many times, and there never was an explosion. Luckily, he was standing at the far end of the hall, and only felt a violent gust push him away from the centre of the event.

Opening his eyes in surprise, Severus ogled the devastation around where the Dark Lord had been standing, casting the curse. Voldemort, as well as another wizard were lying motionless inside a newly formed crater, each holding half of a wand. They were surrounded by at least twenty wounded Death Eaters who seemed too stunned even to moan with pain.

Severus rushed towards them. He stopped as he recognised the other prone wizard as Ron. He reached him at the same time as Harry, who'd been left on his own in the confusion. He checked his jugular for a pulse, and when he found none, he pulled his wand and looked for signs of life through magic. Harry's anticipating eyes became instantly fogged as Severus looked up at him, shaking his head in negation. 

He moved to examine his so-called Master. Unfortunately, there was pulse there. Steady and strong. At that moment, the fire finally reached the hall.

Death Eaters ran amok around the hall, looking for escape from the thickening smoke. Severus knew exactly where it was coming from. He had already marked the best escape route for them, and he was happy to see that it wasn't packed. He placed an arm around Harry's shoulders, trying to lead him to the right door. Hermione's guards had fled as well, and she was making her way to Draco. _Smart Little Witch_, thought Severus. Their only chance was if they escaped as quickly as possible, and getting Draco out of his bonds was the right way to go.

But his plan seemed to be falling apart. Harry refused to leave Ron's side, although Severus had explained to him the futility of the suicidal gesture. At the other end of the room, Hermione had met an unexpected resistance. Lucius Malfoy blocked her way to his boy and was about to hex her. Severus didn't even wait to see which curse Lucius would use. He pointed his wand, which was already in his hand, towards the assaulter and muttered, "_Expelliarmus_," with eighteen years worth of accumulated hatred.

The wand flew out of Lucius Malfoy's hand and he looked at it, stunned. Hermione used his momentary bewilderment to grab hold of his fallen wand and cast a spell that made him topple to the floor. Then, before she dashed to Draco's aid, she looked at Severus and smiled.

"Potter, get up!" Severus said in the most authoritative voice, developed during his years as a teacher. He actually used that tone on him with some reluctance, feeling extremely sorry for the shivering boy. With growing concern, he watched Voldemort begin to stir into consciousness behind Harry.

Hermione and Draco managed to find their way to them through the blinding smoke and the hysterical mob. After confirming their fears about Ron with a sad nod, Severus took off his cloak and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders. He used the wrapping embrace to try and make the boy rise to his feet. Harry just brushed away the supporting arms. At least he held on to the cloak.

"You try to talk some sense into him," Severus said to Harry's one remaining friend.

Hermione took the challenge and moved to put a hand over Harry's. "There's nothing you can do for him," she said. "He died to save your life, it would be dishonouring his memory to stay here and get yourself killed." Severus thought that was a very good argument, but it made no difference to the mourning boy.

Then, something incredible happened. Severus knew two Death Eaters could use their Dark Marks to create a Link. He also knew that these wizards should feel extremely close to one another for the link to work well. He'd seen it in action a few times, but always between father and son or married couples. Each of these times took very long for the Link to be established. Then, when it was done, a thin grey aura surrounded the communicating pair.

The aura that had surrounded the two boys instantly after Draco had moved to touch Harry's arm was not the flimsy grey he'd seen in all those other occasions. It was black and only partly transparent, and seemed almost impenetrable. He didn't know how Draco used the Link to influence Harry, but when he moved away, and the black sphere was broken, Harry was standing, ready to leave.

Severus led the way, his eyes watering from the effort to see the right way through the smoke. The temperature in the room had increased dramatically, and he was glad they were on their way out. He was also glad Harry was carrying his cloak.

The next step was beyond Severus' original plans. He did not take into account the number of Death Eaters who would be outside the castle, all seeking a refuge from the fire. What he also didn't take into account was the surprise those dark servants had, waiting for them outside the castle walls. He almost breathed in relieve when he saw Sirius and his troops standing there, waiting to give a warm welcome to anyone coming out of the castle. No, not a _warm_ welcome. A very hot one indeed. Dozens of Death Eaters were lying around, stunned. Viktor, Remus and Lee walked among them, renewing the hexes when needed. Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus stood in a formation in front of the exit, waiting for fresh victims.

The group rushed to them. They went past Severus and concentrated on someone behind him. At first, he thought it was Harry. It was given that they would worry most about the celebrity, although he had to admit that the boy had been through a lot and probably needed their affection. Then, he realised they were going to Draco. He hadn't noticed that before, but the fair-haired boy was carrying Ron's body on his shoulders. He placed it gently on the ground and backed away. To Severus' surprise, he had one hand wrapped around Hermione and another hand supporting Harry's shoulders.

Despite Draco's brace, Harry was quivering violently. It was cold, but not that cold. Snape knew his cloak well; it was charmed with the latest temperature isolation charms, and should have kept him quite comfortable. There was, of course, a different reason for the boy's trembling. He only had seven frozen Ashwinder eggs in his pocket, but still, he took one out and handed it to Harry. "Chew this," he ordered him. "It'll make you feel better." Harry took the egg with no passion but put it in his mouth anyway. He worked his jaw slowly, as if he didn't hold the strength to move at all. Nevertheless, the egg had worked its magic, and the boy's ague seemed to be gone.

Arabella, who was one most knowledgeable with medical magic, was the first to get up. Severus saw a tear glittering in the corner of her eye. One by one, the other adults rose from their crouch around the body. Hermione left Draco's arms and buried her face in Viktor's heavy cloak. Last to rise was Sirius. He held Ron's body in close embrace and pulled something sparkly out of his pocket.

Severus recognised the object. It was an emergency Portkey. The wards around Hogwarts were charmed to allow in only a handful of devices, and this tiny sphere was one of them. Under any other circumstances, Severus would have objected to using something that would raise so many alarms in the ancient school. It was able to scare even the ghosts. But although they were not facing any imminent peril, bringing a dead boy to the school hit him as a good reason to set off all the alarms and some more. Actually, if using the Portkey hadn't guaranteed havoc, he would have sought a different way to make a racket. He waited for everyone else to have their hands on the shiny ball and then moved to touch it as well.

Under colourful flares and the sound of out-of-tune trumpets, the group appeared on the Hogwarts grounds.

A/N:

I'll be spending the next three weeks in Britain, so the last chapter of this series will be delayed. Well, at least I didn't leave you with a cliffhanger. I promise to write it as soon as I get back. Sorry for leaving you with a bad taste.

Well, this is going to be a short 'Thank you' section. I guess you didn't like the last chapter much. I would love to hear what exactly you didn't like about it, so don't be afraid to put in harsh criticism. I can take it, and it'll help me become a better writer.

Read? Review!

First and foremost, the wonderful, patient, helpful, inspiring beta-team: **Dina,** who is giving me a hand with my real life as well - good luck with the math tests; **Jim Flanagan:** who put an unbelievable amount of work into making this chapter what it is; **Lainey,** who gave me a good feeling with her commants; **Isabelle**,who saved me from more than one embarrassing mistake; **April,** who is exactly half my age, and yet teaches me so much :).

**Imaginative Me:** Thanks! Congratulations for the new name :). **  
Lizzy/Tygrestick:** Well, I guess your little RonIsDead dance is in place now... **  
Saitaina A Moricia:** Dear, oh, dear. Still trust me? VBEG **  
Lily Shouk:** Thanks! Dr Branford did not follow the kids. He had been called to the place by Aude Centeno (the ferret girl). I admire your ability to it in front of the computer for so long. **  
Lady Malfoy:** Oh, all right, I can certainly understand the call of real life. I'm pulling these last two chapters with my teeth. If it had been more, I'd have probably had the series on hiatus. I'll wait patiently for the chapters to be released. **  
AngieJ:** I'll make the same deal with you as I did with Emily - you provide me with some good nitpicks and I'll write you a personal alternative ending. In your case - one that finds Draco dead and Hermione seeking comfort in Harry's arms. How's that? Ooh - did you see the invitation at the top of the chapter? I didn't say so, but I assume the margaritas are on you :). **  
starr:** It's easy not liking Draco. We're not all evil... I'm not... mweheheh... **  
Dementia:** I hope you're better now... sorry... **  
Strak-raving-loony:** I don't know what 'soz' is, but as a Ron-lover I'm officially offended ;). What? I'm entitled to hate Draco but turn him good and pair him with Hermione and I can't kill off a character I like? BTW - all the mails I sent you were returned. **  
Lullaby:** I'm sorry... Thanks! **  
isabella:** Oh dear. It seems like I crashed every single hope you've had for this fic. I'm really sorry. I'll try to make it up to you somehow... And no, I didn't want H/H (although it would have been better than D/H). I'm a R/H shipper. **  
Al:** I wonder if you're too busy to read this. I hope everything is going well for you. I know you've recovered from the cliffhanger by now, right? Getting you confused is a good thing? I didn't mean to do that. I'm glad you're 'het up'. Is that a 'Snitch!' thing? **  
Hermione A. Snape:** Thanks! **  
magicallittleme:** Your idea made sense, but I'm afraid Ron was Ron was Ron. I did follow the Wormtail lead. I hope you're not too shocked. **  
wandzeller:** Well, I'm glad all your questions were answered here. **  
Sarah:** I hope your exams are going well. Thanks! **  
Landry Anne:** I love Ron as well. I hated killing him. Oh well, at least he died a hero. I may make it up to him in another fic, one day. **  
Niffler:** Oh dear. I hope you are able to forgive me. It's just a story... **  
DracoMalfoylover:** I'm glad you like Lee/Ginny so much. Little bit of that couple snogging for you here, and some more in the concluding chapter. Hermione/Draco get to have make-up-snog-session next time. Sirius/Arabella is not my original idea. I think GinnyPotter was the first to do it. **  
Phyllia:** Hermione/George? That's a first. As long as your ships don't include Ron/Aragog, I'm with you. **  
Angel Eyez: T**hanks! **  
Meriadoc (is that final?):** Hey, don't giggle over gay!Snape. I've read some pretty good Sirius/Snape fics ;). Simon had to approve his last cameo blindly (as did Saitaina for this chapter) his "condition" was that he gets to snog a girl, and that's what he got :). He did choke at the sight of his robes afterwards. So, I'm as good as dead? Don't worry, in this fic, Harry doesn't remain depressed for long. I almost cried over Al's 'They'd be better off without me.' I'm glad I made you hate Draco, although I have no idea how I did that. Thanks for the long review. I love those! **  
LunaLuv:** Hermione chose Draco because that's what you guys told her to do :). Thanks! **  
Dinah:** Well, I've already told you everything in the mail. Thanks again for robbing Al of the 'longest review' award. Just one thing - I'm kinky? You call yourself 'Mrs Snape,' and I'm kinky? As we established before, you a blithering lunatic :). **  
Ignacia:** I hope you've had your caffeine and feel better now :). **  
MdnightRadio:** Thanks! **  
Lazuli:** (Love your name!) Thanks for the virtual sweets. Couldn't eat them because of the half-naked-Draco (blah!) **  
Hermione Malfoy:** Well, your pseudonym says it all. Thanks! **  
Mwalimu:** you're right that the 'if I live' should have been 'if I leave'. I guess that's what you'd call a Freudian slip ;). Thanks! **  
Uhjdfjuy:** I already have my marshmallows on a stick, waiting for you over at HPParadise. **  
Danielle:** Sorry and thanks! **  
Annoying Lily:** I hope I didn't make you choke with this chapter. Thanks! **  
Merry:** You're right about me needing a beta. I hope you found the grammar in advanced chapters more to your liking. If you have any specific comments, I'd love to hear them. **  
Dr Branford:** Ooh, I can't believe that you, of all people, got erased from the 'Thank you' section.' I was so grateful for your quick jump to the rescue when I ranted about not getting many reviews for the chapter, and that after you mailed me... There used to be a terrible 'thank you' gush here, but you'll have to take this instead :). BTW - your character isn't important enough to either get killed or get the girl. Sorry :). **  
Viktor'sGurl:** Only one more chapter to go, ant it'll be a bit delayed. I thought we cleared Hermione's pairing last time (Draco). Well, if I didn't write that clear enough there, I hope I managed it here. Thanks! **  
Crystal Music:** Well, I think there's an extremely good reason why Draco gets gypped in all the good fics. He deserves it! I don't think you're judgmental. I think you saw what I wanted you to see, and for that, I'm grateful. **  
Lana Mavi:** Sweet innocent Draco?! picks up her jaw from the floor Well, I guess that's one way of looking at it. That's funny. I don't write slash for exactly the same reason - so I'd have a shot with the boys (or men) :). What happened to Krum? Oh dear. He gave his name to the lame story title and went on with the rest of his life. As a token of my appreciation of him, he's in the last scene of the fic. Sorry, no more boxers. I strongly believe that there can be "too much of a good thing". **  
Emily:** Thanks! **  
sagshs:** If you hate my story so much, I suggest you take me off authoralert :P. Come to HPParadise. You keep the flames burning and Ebony will get the margaritas. **  
zHan:** If you're a new D/H shipper, you may want to check up the hp4ever egroup. You can find many fellow-D/H-ers there. Thanks! **  
dagan:** Glad you're having fun! Thanks! **  
Trance:** Hermione got knocked out in the middle of the battle. It makes me very happy to see you dancing around :). **  
Jessie:** I wouldn't call this story 'possible' but I'll take your compliment anyway :). The last chapter will be a bit delayed, but it'll be here. I'd say around lat-June. **  
Linda:** Well... Sorry, can't let all the guys share Hermione :). In another fic, maybe... Well, if chapter 10 put you out that much, I can't imagine what this one did to you. Let me know if you write your own ending to the story, I'd love to read it. This won't be a first BTW. Join us over at the HPParadise egroup to talk more about this. **  
Sanna:** Hey - what happened to HBtM 12? That's a fantastic chapter. Where is it? **  
Ryan's Gurl:** (any relation to 'His Majesty's Secret Service'?) Don't know which boy you asked to save. It's 50-50 that I got the right one. Sorry if not. **  
Wind Angel:** Don't worry about Harry. I'm done with killing people. **  
Snowbear:** Say hi to your sister for me :). Sorry to disappoint you about Ron. **  
Amy Setta:** Thanks! I'd love to know which parts got you confused, if you feel like telling me. **  
Spookygirl:** Sorry about the H/H. Thanks! **  
rhiannon:** blushes Thanks! Hope Cassie got in touch with you. **  
Star Princess:** I think that yours was the most adorable review I ever got. I laughed to a stomachache of your school-story. Glad you can keep Canon!Draco and Fanon!Draco separated. I'm afraid all my Dracos are now taint with leather trousers :). You'll probably feel the same after reading Cassandra Claire's amazing fics. **  
K.A.P:** :) back at you. **  
Becky:** This is too sweet! The other side of Star Princess' review. Thanks! **  
Jaim:** You're one of the few who saw Ron for what he was. They're in year six. **  
Catty:** Thanks for taking a break to review. Hope you haven't lost it again :). **  
Teek:** Such compliments blushes. Thanks! You don't have to wish you could read Hebrew on my account. I only write English, and I'm a bit scarce on that too. I'm afraid I'm not going to explain Harry's abnormal MQ. That's one of the things that will be left open. No loose action threads, though. **  
slackerchick101:** Thanks! **  
janie:** Hope you've recovered by now. Sorry to have sent you into such a seizure ;).

40


	12. Simple

Krum Do I Love

_**Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 12**_

_Simple_

Author: yael  
Author email:   
Category: Romsnce; Action/Adventure  
Keywords: Harry Draco Ron Nagini D/H  
Spoilers: All four books  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: This started out as a humorous series. It turned a lot darker somewhere in the process of writing, and this epilogue is the darkest. Was. Was the darkest. I erased the first two versions of this chapter, and am giving you the third, with the hope that I was able to recreate the humorous tone with which it all started. Again, this is the last chapter of the series. Make the best of it.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note & Dedications:  
I'm taking a leaf out of Al's page and dedicating this chapter to **Douglas Adams**, although I doubt he'd want it. May he rest in peace.

Where we left off: Ron was killed, saving Harry's life, after almost helping Voldemort. Snape helped the entire group escape from the flaming Death-Eaters fortress, and with the help of Sirius, Lupin, Arabella, Mundungus, Lee and Krum, they all made it to Hogwarts safely (save for Ron).

aaaaaaaaaa

**The end of chapter 11:**  
Severus recognised the object. It was an emergency Portkey. The wards around Hogwarts were charmed to allow in only a handful of devices, and this tiny sphere was one of them. Under any other circumstances, Severus would have objected to using something that would raise so many alarms in the ancient school. It was able to scare even the ghosts. But although they were not facing any imminent peril, bringing a dead boy to the school hit him as a good reason to set off all the alarms and some more. Actually, if using the Portkey hadn't guaranteed havoc, he would have sought a different way to make a racket. He waited for everyone else to have their hands on the shiny ball and then moved to touch it as well. 

Under colourful flares and the sound of out-of-tune trumpets, the group appeared on the Hogwarts grounds. 

aaaaaaaaaa

It was very obvious that the alarms raised by using a Portkey to enter the Hogwarts grounds had been well spotted. Lights were lit all over the nearby castle even before Arabella had the chance to fully recover from the gut-knotting travel. 

Rising to her feet, Arabella saw a group slide down the main castle staircase, hovering a few inches above the stone steps. At the head of the group, Dumbledore's white beard reflected the last of the flares. He was followed by Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall, and two more Hogwarts' professors. 

"Oh my god! What happened to you?" called the nurse as she neared the newly arrived group. At first, Arabella thought she was referring to Ron, but Madam Pomfrey began conjuring bandage after bandage, waving her wand frantically in front of her, Ron's body still hidden from her sight. Madam Pomfrey reached Arabella and tried wrapping one of the bandages around her right arm. 

"I'm fine," Arabella dismissed her. 

"I'm the one to say who's fine and who's not, and you're definitely not fine,' said the nurse with a tender but very firm tone. You have several bad cuts, not to mention the burns." Her eyes scanned the group. "Where have you been?" 

Arabella followed her gaze. For the first time, she noticed the poor appearance of them all. First, she had been too busy fighting off the hordes of Death Eaters who came running out of the flaming castle, and then she was too concerned with Ron to notice anyone else. Now, she could see that every single one of them had been harmed in the fierce battle. They were dirty with soot, and their robes had been torn beyond repair. 

Snape was the only one who did not seem like he had just survived a massive attack, which was odd, since that was exactly what he had done. His only bodily damage was his scorched brows, which was not that unusual of a sight on a Potions Master. Viktor had a long gash on his thigh and was losing blood rapidly. Lee had such a large bruise above his brows that it looked like he had grown a second head. Mundungus was no better off. Under an exceptionally large tear in his shoulder-padding, she could see numerous cuts. Remus seemed unharmed at first, but when he turned, she could see clearly that there was not an inch of healthy skin left on his back. Arabella's heart skipped a beat when she turned her gaze to Sirius. He still held Ron's body as if he was merely hugging him. Judging by his very white face and the rapidly growing pool of blood, melting the snow by his feet, he wouldn't have been able to hold the body, or himself, for that matter, for much longer. 

Arabella tried to move to his aid, but Madam Pomfrey held her back. "Stand still.' She commanded. 

"But he's hurt!" Arabella protested. 

"So are you,' said the nurse, making Arabella regard her own injuries for the first time. The arm that was being put in a bandage was sore and the white bandage was heavily stained with red. Arabella's robes were just as badly damaged as the others', and like them, she also had an incredible number of first and second degree burns, some as small as a coin, some as large as a Christmas serving plate. 

Arabella tore her eyes from her sorry appearance and scanned the kids they had just rescued, or had attempted to rescue and failed, when it came to Ron. Draco was covered with so much soot, his hair was almost as black as Harry's. His eyes flared like two lanterns, looking fairer than ever in his dirt-covered face. Arabella mused that if he ever wanted to hide in the dark, he would have to use sunglasses. Draco's arm was still supporting Harry, and a good thing that it did. Harry seemed ready to drop to the ground the minute Draco let go of him. 

Harry was not only physically weak, having suffered the Cruciatus Curse by the wand of the most powerful dark wizard alive; he also seemed like he had no wish to hold himself together. His usually bright emerald eyes were closed most of the time, and in the brief moment he opened them, they looked like the internal fire that usually shown in them had died out. Harry was the only one of them who was not wearing a torn robe. Indeed, he had not been wearing robes at all for nearly a day. He had Snape's cloak wrapped around his shoulders, held there mainly by Draco's hand. The cloak, which was taken from Snape's Death Eater uniform, matched perfectly the leather trousers Harry was given by Voldemort himself. 

Hermione seemed lost next to Harry and Draco. She obviously wanted to do something, but had no idea what. Arabella couldn't blame her. Despite Harry's lack of cooperation, the two boys seemed to share something beyond the grasp of anyone other than them. McGonagall reached for her and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, which quickly turned into a motherly embrace, Hermione sobbing into her teacher's shoulder. 

Dumbledore reached Harry and fixed the cloak around his neck, with light patting motions. Harry looked into the headmaster's face for a few seconds and then opened his mouth, uttering a single word - 'Ron.' Dumbledore's white head turned slowly to where Sirius stood, holding Ron's body close to him. Sirius' grip tightened as the headmaster touched the cold boy held in his hands. 

"We have failed, Sir," Sirius said, his voice low, but his words very clear. 

"You have done your best, I'm sure," Dumbledore answered, conjuring a stretcher, which hovered eight feet high in the air. "You have managed to get the rest of them in one piece," he said, jumping up and down, trying to catch the stretcher, which hung just out of his reach. Finally, he gave up and forced it down with his wand. "Without underestimating the great loss of my student, this could have ended up even worse." He helped Sirius lower Ron's body to the stretcher, and gave the boy one last pat on the cheek as he did. 

Once reasonably fixed, Arabella took some of the bandages from Madam Pomfrey's hands, allowing the nurse to see to Ron. Arabella's first urge was to go to Sirius, but he was standing next to the headmaster and the nurse. There were others who needed her more. Reciting a shallow healing spell, she turned to Viktor. 

"This will take a few days to heal, but you won't have any problems playing Quidditch," Arabella told Viktor in a very motherly tone. 

"I think this is a bit too tight - oof!" Viktor said, as his leg turned white under the bandage. 

Arabella hardly heard him. Her mind was with Madam Pomfrey and Ron. The nurse moved her wand slowly over the boy, her face turning more serious with each motion. 

"He is nearly dead," Madam Pomfrey made a loud tutting sound. 

Viktor made an effort to loosen the tight knot that was blocking his circulation. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Arabella turned to him, releasing the edge of the bandage. Then, the words the nurse had just said hit her brain. She jumped, pulling the bandage with her and causing Viktor to flip over. 

He gave her a surly gaze from where he landed on the snow. "I think I vill vait for the nurse, if you don't mind," he said, pulling the bandage out of her hand. He encountered no resistance, as Arabella left him lying there and ran towards Ron. 

"I was sure he was dead," she said once she was close enough to be heard without having to shout. 

"Not very far from it, I'm afraid," Madam Pomfrey said. "There is still someone in there, see?" She showed how her wand slightly vibrated when she held it over Ron's head and muttered some obscure spell. "But his body won't keep him there for much longer." 

"He's breathing!" Arabella nearly lost her own breath. 

"No, I'm afraid that's just a spell making his ribs move," Madam Pomfrey quelled her enthusiasm. "As a matter of fact, I don't know if this boy will ever breath on his own again. The odds are not good." 

More people began swarming out of the castle. They held back at the foot of the stairs, looking at the group from a distance. Two girls broke off from between the crowd. One was Cho Chang, limping determinably towards them in what Arabella assumed was the first time she was out of her hospital bed in a week She used the other girl, Ginny, for support. 

Arabella gasped and moved to block Ron from Ginny's view. So did Lee, Remus and Hermione. Ginny ran to Lee, thrilled to see him relatively unharmed. He collected her in his arms, making sure her head was turned away from the stretcher. As soon as Madam Pomfrey had Viktor back on his feet, he had Cho in his arms in much the same way. Ginny kissed Lee hotly, hugged him again and then said, "Where's Ron?" 

The uneasiness was as thick in the air as a morning fog in the winter. Ginny's voice turned desperate. "Where's Ron?" she asked again, trying to push away from Lee. 

Lee held her with more force than is normally used between lovers. "He's alive," he told her, hoping that would calm her down a little. 

Ginny struggled even harder against him, and was able to get a glimpse of her deathly pale brother, floating a few feet above the equally white snow. "Ron!" she screamed. 

"I'm so sorry," Lee tried to comfort her as Ginny collapsed into a sobbing heap in his arms. "I'm really, really sorry." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Lucius Malfoy opened his eyes to a room engulfed with flames. The last thing he remembered was trying to stop the mudblood girl from snatching his son and then being hit with some curse. Snape. He distinctly remembered it had been Snape's wand that had fired the curse that had knocked him out. Dumbledore's pet. Lucius had tried to warn his master against that lying traitor, but his master had insisted that he had a plan. A lot of good that plan had brought them. 

A movement in the other side of the room caught Lucius' eye. It was something beyond the dance of the flames, or rather, it was something completely contradictory to it. The darkness that emanated from it helped to slightly dim the intimidating bright light coming from the fire. 

"Master,' Lucius whispered. He lowered his head to inhale a little less of the smoke and moved towards the dark figure. "We must get out of here before the castle collapses on us." 

"Where is the wretched boy, and why did nobody freeze the fire?" Voldemort hissed. 

"It spread too quickly, Master," Lucius answered the second question. 

Voldemort fumed. "You are too weak to be worthy of serving me!" He shouted. He raised his wand and held it to the ceiling. Lucius was wracked by an uncontrollable gale of coughs, which won him a glare full of contempt. 

"Where are the children?" Voldemort asked again, making it very clear that he'd better get an answer this time. 

"I believe the Weasley boy is dead," Lucius answered. He watched the scales on his master's hideous face move to form half a smile. "As for the rest of them," he began, and then stopped to swallow hard. "I believe they have escaped, taking my Draco with them." 

The voice that escaped Voldemort's throat was clearly not of human origins. He looked up to his raised wand and shouted a fire-freezing spell. Lucius thought it impossible to freeze an entire flaming castle, but he had been wrong. Rage had enforced the Dark Lord's spell and it was released with a force even he had not been expecting. The fire around them died out immediately. Lucius watched a blade of ice form on the ceiling, right above his master's wand. The ice spread quickly to cover the rest of the ceiling and moved down the walls with a crackling sound. Before they could comprehend what was happening, the ice proceeded to cover the floor. Lucius tried to move out of its way, but it was too late. It had advanced from all directions, closing in on the point directly beneath where it originated, leaving Voldemort and him right in the middle. 

The ice touched their feet, sending a wave of chill into the back of the man who usually cherished the coldness. It then covered the two, freezing the expressions of mixed surprise and terror on their faces. 

aaaaaaaaaa

The stairs to the Headmaster's office seemed to move even slower than usual. Even though they took Minerva upstairs, she had lost her patience, and climbed the moving staircase. She stumbled on the last step and stood in front of the closed office door, collecting herself. 

She had just owled the Weasleys, after seeing that Ron was settled in the infirmary. The smaller room in the hospital wing had been almost filled with the newly arrived wounded. It would have been even more crowded, had it not been to Cho Chang and Viktor Krum leaving without saying a word as to where they where going. 

Three of the four returning students (her heart cringed at the thought of the unsteady condition of the fourth) were in the office before which she stood, giving their version of the events to Dumbledore. She had already heard fragments of information from the adults in the infirmary. 

Entering the room, Minerva could only see Draco's and Hermione's heads peeping over the backs of two of the chairs. Another chair stood in between the two. Dumbledore peered out the window, his back to them and his fingers intertwined just below the line of his long white hair. Stepping further inside, she saw Harry as well. He sat slumped in the chair between Draco and Hermione. His entire posture was so wilted, that his head was lower than the chair's back. 

"Do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died in the fire?" Minerva heard Draco ask. His voice didn't hold much hope, which was a good thing, because Dumbledore's answer was, "No." 

The old wizard turned from the window. He greeted Minerva with a nod of his head and then explained, "Voldemort cannot die." Draco and Hermione recoiled when he mentioned the name, while, if Harry had heard him, he showed no sign of it. "The most he can do is to turn back to being something less than a ghost. Somehow, I doubt that a fire had that effect on him." 

All the past headmasters and headmistresses on the walls nodded gravely. All but one sleepy headmaster kept a very stern facade. Even the sleepy one did his best to appear serious in between his uncontrollable snoozes. 

Dumbledore regarded the boy, who seemed dispirited by the news. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll get him yet. I promise you that young Ron Weasley's sacrifice will not be in vain." 

Draco tried a feeble smile. He seemed somewhat confused by the mention of Ron, and Minerva didn't blame him. He knew nothing about Trelawney's first prophecy or Harry's future part in defeating Voldemort for good. For all she knew, what Ron did had saved their one hope of ever bringing peace to Europe. And he may pay for it with his life. Looking at Harry's condition, if Draco had any knowledge of the prophecy, he just might have been even more worried about their chances. She definitely had her doubts. 

"You still didn't tell me why you left Hogwarts in the first place," Dumbledore renewed the conversation. 

Draco and Hermione looked at each other and then both turned their eyed hurriedly to Harry, who still seemed deep in his own world. Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "We wanted to get your Pensieve back, Sir," she said. When no one spoke, she added, "We wanted to prove that the article in the Prophet, the one about Harry being a Death Eater, was a fraud." 

"Then why not just show that he's not carrying the Dark Mark?" Minerva intervened. 

"You missed that part," Dumbledore sighed. 

Minerva looked at him questioningly, and saw him nod to Hermione. The girl took Harry's left arm in her hand and turned it palm up. She encountered no resistance doing that. Gently, she pulled the cloak up, exposing the soft flesh of the boy's forearm. On his milky white skin was an unmistakable red sign - a thick snake crawling out of a human skull. 

The breath caught in Minerva's throat. "Harry!" she gasped. 

Harry remained as still as before. As Hermione let go of his hand, he simply let it drop onto his lap, not bothering to unroll the sleeve first. To her surprise, Minerva saw Draco cover Harry's hand tenderly. For a minute, she thought she saw something black and bright flicker around them, but it was gone before she could be sure it really existed. She was certain of one thing - there was a strong connection between Harry and the Slytherin Malfoy boy. 

She'd heard some stories about Draco's change from Sirius, but she still wasn't happy about it. Harry was very close to losing his best friend. The closest thing he ever had to a real family. There was Hermione, of course, but friendship between a boy and a girl had always been a complicated thing. Harry was in a vulnerable and lenient state. Draco Malfoy couldn't have been a very good influence just then. 

With widening eyes, Minerva watched Draco tighten the loose cloak around Harry at exactly the same time Hermione moved to do the same. Their hands brushed a few inches above Harry's chest. Draco moved his hand forward, but Hermione drew hers back as if he was made of live embers. Looking downcast, Draco sagged back into his chair. 

"The boy had been marked on Yule night," Dumbledore explained. "The same night he disappeared for several hours after he went chasing the thieves who took my Pensieve. He had nothing to do with it." 

"Then he did not accept it?" Minerva asked, already relieved, because she knew her favourite students, and knew what the answer would be. 

"No." 

"Then it can be removed," she said. This was the first happy news she'd heard in a while. 

For the first time since they'd arrived, around lunchtime, Harry made a voluntary motion. He turned to look at the head of his house, his eyes momentarily bright with their old spark. A few of the past headmasters clapped, but they were quickly hushed by the rest of them. 

A dull thud sounded from the office door, like something very big had almost mindlessly bumped into it. 

"Come in, Hagrid," Dumbledore called. 

The door opened. Hagrid stood in the entrance, his head bowed so he could look inside. He was holding something large and white, which was mostly hidden in his huge arms. That object must have been very heavy, because circles of sweat decorated Hagrid's shirt, and he was panting heavily. 

The half-giant stepped into the room, his thick tangled hair brushing the top of the doorframe. He gently placed the heavy object on the headmaster's desk, which sagged under the excess weight. It was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Minerva's gasp joined into the collective intake of air. 

"I've been carryin' this through half the Forbidden Forres'," Hagrid groaned, making a failing effort to straighten his back. 

Dumbledore regarded Hagrid with a solemn expression. "Did the centaurs give it to you?" he asked. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good. Then it means it is ready. The memories have been sorted." Dumbledore's words caused some reaction in the three students. 

"That's what the blonde Centaur said," Draco whispered. 

"Firenze," Hermione explained. 

"Have you entered the memories?" inquired Dumbledore. 

All three nodded feebly. 

"And what did you see?" 

"Minister Fudge," Hermione said. "He was in all of the memories." 

"That's the point of the sorting process," Dumbledore said as if it was obvious. "The magic seeks the hidden link between all the memories stored and arranges them to expose it." 

"He works for Voldemort," Harry said, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. Minerva looked at him, more in shock that he chose to speak, than with the news. 

"We have suspected as much," Dumbledore sighed. 

"What are you going to do about it?" Draco demanded. 

"Nothing." To their puzzled expressions, Dumbledore added, "Now that we are certain of it, we can use it to our advantage. If we flush him out, all we'll have is another of Voldemort's moles; someone we'll know nothing about. I prefer a snake out in the open to a snake in the grass." 

"But he's commanding the entire ministry, including the Aurors!" Hermione exclaimed. 

"He has not been doing that for a while now," Dumbledore smiled knowingly at Minerva. "But you're right," his features became serious once more. "We are training someone to replace Fudge, in case he's incapable of holding the title any longer." 

The room was engulfed with thick silence while everybody computed the news. After a few minutes, Hermione turned to Dumbledore with a question, "Professor, if I may ask, how did all those memories wind up in your Pensieve? You didn't even witness most of them." 

"Ah, but I did," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. He sat in his chair, ready to launch into a long explanation. 

aaaaaaaaaa

All of Remus' protests didn't help him. He, Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus had been admitted for further care. Lee was lucky enough to have sustained only minor injuries, and was released after Madam Pomfrey had him properly fixed with her medical spells and notorious hairy pills. He sat by Ron's bed Ginny in his lap. He moved his fingers on her cheeks from time to time, wiping off her tears. 

The minute the nurse had left the room, Remus sat up in his bed. The action had actually eased his pain, as the mattress no longer pressed against his wounds. He lowered his feet to the cold floor, and watched Mundungus do the same. Sirius gave them a reassuring smile and a nod. He could not go with them. The risks were too high. It was agreed that he and Arabella would stay behind. 

Lee darted off his chair, almost knocking Ginny down. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "Madam Pomfrey said you should stay here at least for the night." 

"Well, it's not exactly night-time, is it?" Remus smirked, pointing at the window. His victorious smile ebbed as he looked out and noticed that the example he gave wasn't a very good one. The sky outside was very dark, despite the fact that it was only early afternoon. Thick clouds hid any glimpse of blue from the eye and snow was falling heavily. 

"Doesn't matter," he said to Lee while Mundungus took a position by his side. "We need to report the latest events to our operator in the Ministry, and this can't wait." 

"You mean, this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment action?" Lee asked, astonished. "You do this often?" 

Remus considered the proper reply. "We've been at it for the past year and a half," Sirius answered for him, and then added grimly, "In this round." 

"And how to you take on assignments?" Lee took a step back, looking at Sirius. The young man seemed to have forgotten about his initial intention to stop the two patients from leaving. 

"Usually, Dumbledore passes on the missions, but there's one man in the Ministry who organises -" Sirius stopped in mid-explanation. Remus could almost see a little light jumping to life over his head. His voice sounding pensive, he asked, "Are you currently employed?" 

Lee shook his head in negation. "I had a good interview with the WWN, but -" he paused for a minute, his tone changing from conversational to extremely serious. "No, I'm available." 

Remus turned to Mundungus, who was looking intently at him. "I think we'll need a third broomstick," he said, watching the shade of a smile pass on his comrade's lips. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Are you sure this is the right forum?" Minerva asked, familiar with the story Dumbledore was about to tell. "Shouldn't you be talking with Harry in private?" 

"That's all right," Harry said. Curiosity seemed to have reignited the spark in his soul. 

"Every wizard or witch can create a brand," Dumbledore began. 

"Every _powerful_ wizard or witch," corrected Minerva. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Yes, well -" He took a deep breath and continued. "If another wizard or witch is willing to accept that brand, than that person is forever connected to the branding wizard. A good example is Voldemort and his Death Eaters." Dumbledore ignored the wince shared by everyone but Harry. "The skull and snake brand he created connects him to each and every one of them. He can use it to call them and he can watch them through it. He can even control them from a distance. It is less powerful than the Imperious Curse, and only has a short-term effect, but it is efficient nonetheless." 

"But how is that connected to the memories?" Hermione insisted. 

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. "Just like my darkest opponent, I have a brand as well. We created it during his first reign of terror, in order to protect everyone who would not follow him." He scanned the kids to see what impression it left on them. They all sat wide-eyed, giving him their undivided attention. "A small group of fierce opponents of Voldemort had been branded by me on New-year's eve of 1980." 

"Aurors?" Hagrid asked. He never heard the complete story, only fragments of rumours that ran around for years. 

"Not exactly," answered Dumbledore. "There were eight wizards and witches there that night. Two of them were Harry's parents." 

Harry paled significantly. Once again, Minerva's lips turned into white stripes as she saw Draco putting a supportive hand on Harry's upper arm. "So, my parents carried your mark?" Harry choked. 

"That was the initial idea." Dumbledore allowed Harry's shock to ease a little before he went on. "Your father did. But when I placed the spell on your mother, something extraordinary happened." 

Hermione seemed to be counting on her fingers. "She was pregnant!" she cried. 

"Indeed," Dumbledore confirmed. "It wasn't expected. If we had anticipated that, the spell would have never been cast. By all means, it should have killed the baby." 

"But it didn't," Hermione said, thinking two steps ahead. "Instead, the baby, Harry, was branded as well. That's how you could see what he saw on all those occasions." 

"Correct in all but one," Dumbledore offered her a smile. "You're a very smart young witch. Harry had been branded, but it was instead of his mother. She had never been marked. We would not take the risk after that first accident." 

"Who are the other six who were there that night?" Draco asked. 

At that point, Hagrid pulled out a handkerchief as large as a tablecloth and blew his nose into it. 

"You wouldn't know them," Dumbledore replied with a sad quiver in his voice. "They were all tracked down and killed. The mark that should have helped protect them was the mark of their death." 

"Is that why Voldemort wanted me dead but didn't care about my mother?" Harry asked. 

"I'm afraid so." 

Harry flopped back to the same position he was in when Minerva first stepped into the room. Her heart sagged with him. The talk about his dead parents after he had just watched his best friend jump into the killing curse could not have been easy. 

"I'll take the kids ter the infirmary," Hagrid suggested, obviously moved by Harry's condition. 

"Not just yet," Dumbledore said. "I need them here for just a while longer." 

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius watched his two veteran combat partners leave with their new acquisition. Ginny went with them to see them off the Castle grounds. The instant they were out of view, Sirius sat up, ready to leave as well. As his luck had it, Madam Pomfrey chose that exact moment to step into the room. She pushed Sirius back, giving the empty beds around her a sore look. 

"Let me out of this bed. I must go see Harry!" Sirius was ready to begin seriously yelling at Madam Pomfrey. 

"You are not moving a single limb out of this bed!" Madam Pomfrey answered with matching anger. "You are in no condition to go. This is your second serious injury in two days." 

"Third," sighed Arabella, counting in the curse a guard had put on his legs. Sirius had blamed Snape for that injury. 

"Harry is my godson. I should be there when he needs me, and he never needed me before as much as he does now." Sirius's eyes lost their focus. "He did need me once, actually, but I wasn't there for him. I'm going right now." 

"Has everybody gone mad?" Madam Pomfrey screeched. "Four of my patient are on the loose. This has never happened to me before." She turned to Arabella, waving her hands excessively to demonstrate her desperation. "You're the brains in this relationship. Talk some sense into him." 

"I am, aren't I?" Arabella said with half a smile. She took Madam Pomfrey's hand and gave the man beside her a severe look. "Sirius," she said, tightening her grip on the nurse's hand. "Make a run for it!" 

Sirius looked at her, shocked, but didn't need to be told twice. Making the bedcovers fly off of him, he jumped lightly to the floor. He grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around him as he fled from the room, blowing a kiss to Arabella as he ran. 

Arabella shrivelled under the nurse's glare. For a full minute, they just stared at each other. Then, without saying a word, they both dashed out of the infirmary, trying to guess Sirius' general direction. 

aaaaaaaaaa

All through the long explanation she and Draco had provided, Hermione kept sneaking quick looks at Harry. She wanted to hold him so badly that it pained her not to. But she held back. The last thing he needed was to be given the wrong impression of their relationship. They were friends. Good friends, but nothing beyond that. She loved Harry, but she was _in_ love with Draco. 

Draco. Hermione felt a strong pinch in her heart when she looked at him. All she could see was his blonde head hovering over that Saitaina witch in a hot kiss. Hermione thought those kisses were reserved for her. The scene replayed in her mind every time she looked at him, a thing she desperately tried to avoid. 

After Professor Dumbledore was satisfied with their story, they just sat there, none of them feeling like having a casual talk. Hermione was almost relieved when the door opened, until she saw who was there. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, George and Fred. They were followed by Professor Snape, whose beetle black eyes seemed darker than ever. 

Hermione dreaded the meeting with them. What could she tell them? "Your son chose to become a Death Eater"? That's not something she wanted to tell parents over their boy's possible deathbed. She and Draco had smoothly avoided the topic so far, but seeing the Weasleys, Hermione knew they wouldn't be able to keep at it much longer. 

"Charlie and Percy will be here later," Mr Weasley explained while his wife ran to Harry, hugging him like the mother he never knew. 

"I'm so sorry," she said, pushing Harry to lean against her. 

"What?" Harry croaked. He broke the connection and looked at her, confused. "He's in this condition because of me," he whispered. 

"We know he saved your life and that he may pay dearly for it," Mr Weasley said. "We're very proud of him." 

Harry bit through his lip. He allowed himself to be swept again into Mrs Weasley's arms. The rapid motion made Snape's unbuttoned cloak fall from his shoulders again. 

George bent over him to pick it up, using the opportunity to punch Draco in the back. 

"Watch it, Weasley," Draco snapped, getting out of his chair. 

"No, you watch it, Malfoy," George shot back. He stood up, the cloak hanging loose on his arm. "I'd love to know what your part in this mess was." 

In an instant, Fred was flanked by his twin, his wand pointing at Draco. 

Hermione watched with alarm as Draco reached into his robes, undoubtedly in search of his wand. This wasn't an easy task, considering the condition of his clothes. They were completely torn, and she knew from her experience that some of the raw curses made their pockets shift to unexpected places. 

"That is enough," Dumbledore thundered. He was ignored by everyone but the image of the sleepy past headmaster, who woke up with a start. 

Hermione stepped between Draco and the twins, facing the two red-haired and red-faced boys. "You want to know what his part was?" She nearly shouted. "He's the one who carried Ron out." Fred and George gaped at her, lowering their wands. "He saved our lives more than once," Hermione continued. "And I know for sure that he wasn't the one who turned us in." 

"Than who was it?" asked Bill. He had been following the interaction with interest, and just like any Weasley, had little love for anything Malfoy. 

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, doing a very good imitation of a fish. She couldn't believe she set that trap for herself. 

"We don't know," Draco said. He moved out from behind her and stood by her side. His wand was in his hand, put it wasn't in a duelling position. 

Hermione gave him a long, appraising look. It was the first time she could do it since their return. She was glad that he was the one who made the decision to keep Ron's betrayal as a secret. After all, Ron had proved himself worthy of a second chance. She just hoped that Harry was conscious enough to follow suit. 

"Well, someone must have got you captured," Fred sneered. "If it wasn't you, then who? Harry? Hermione? That's absurd" 

_He doesn't even consider mentioning Ron_, Hermione thought. Good thing that he hadn't. She was sure that if he had, her blush would have revealed their secret. 

"There are other ways Voldemort could have known where to find them," Dumbledore said. This time he was heard well, if only because of the chills everyone felt at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. 

He was referring to the Dark Mark, of course. Hermione now knew why he never asked about this all through their long talk. He just assumed that they had been followed through Harry's or Draco's brand. That was an excellent idea, she had to admit it. 

Holding his head high, Draco pulled the cloak from George's hand and tried to wrap it around Harry. Harry objected, wriggling out of Mrs Weasley's hug. He looked like he hasn't entirely awakened from a bad dream. His tousled hair was messier than ever, and his face bore no expression. Not even an expressionless expression. Taking the cloak from Draco, he held it out to Snape. 

"Here, Professor," he said. "I don't need it any more. Thank you." 

Snape's left arm twitched as if he had tried to lift it and had failed. He grabbed it, his face twisted with pain. 

Draco moved closer to Hermione. He bent over her ear and whispered, "Thank you." 

She could feel his breath against her skin. The very visible shiver that passed through her made her very angry with herself. Draco moved slightly lower, his lips brushing the back of her neck. 

"What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. 

With all eyes on the Potions master, no one paid any heed to Draco's deeds. 

"Get away from me!" Hermione hissed, forcing herself to tear away from him. Her body screamed in protest, but she ignored it. "Just because I didn't want them to kill you doesn't mean I forgive you." She moved into the group of people, where she was out of Draco's reach. 

"Are you being called again?" Professor McGonagall asked Snape. 

"It's nothing," Snape answered after a few long seconds. He looked at Harry, who was still holding out the cloak. "Keep it," he said, regarding the boy's shivering bare figure. "You obviously need it more than I." 

Hermione watched Mrs Weasley fix the cloak around Harry's shoulders and wondered how the woman managed that. She had tried to do the same earlier, but had found the cloak simply too small. Probably having so many children who lived on hand-me-downs provided her with some practice. 

"Now, Hagrid, you can escort them to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Lee propped his broom against the wall, following Mundungus' example. Remus did the same, and then stepped in front of the other two men. Lee tried to follow him, but Mundungus held him back. 

"What are we doing here?" he asked. Of all the strange places he'd seen in the last few days, this must have been the strangest. They had flown over the Forbidden Forrest, and then took a dive right into one of the trees. Closing his eyes, Lee had prepared himself for the impact that had never come. Instead, they had passed right through the forest ground and had kept going for at least a mile. Finally, they had reached this place - a concrete cube, large enough for the three men and not much more. 

Looking up, Lee could not see any tunnel or passageway from which they could have travelled. There was just a grey ceiling. Two plain-looking torches kept only enough light not to call the place dark. Lee was increasingly concerned that they would run out of air. 

"This is a passageway," Mundungus answered. "A safety lock. Only authorised people can go through. The rest, if they manage to get here, remain stuck." 

"Am I authorised?" Lee asked, feeling the beginnings of claustrophobia. He watched Remus move his wand in front of one of the walls. 

One corner of Mundungus' mouth twitched up. "You're with us," he said. "Don't worry." 

The wall in front of Remus turned red, as if it was extremely hot. Instinctively, Lee took a step back, but again, Mundungus urged him in the opposite direction. Remus walked straight into the wall and disappeared. The other two followed suit. 

"I only have a few minutes," said someone on the other side. 

Lee thought he recognised the voice, but found his identification hard to believe. The image of the room they had entered cleared very slowly. Red clouds in his eyes coloured everything around him. The large room with its desk and chairs seemed pink; the bookshelves were purple and the ancient weapons on the walls took a strong copper tint. Slowly, everything changed to a normal colour, except for the room's owner, who remained quite red. Lee gaped at him. 

Percy regarded Lee with caution, and then turned to Remus. "So, you've decided to make him a resident part of the team," he determined. 

"He was a great help in the last mission," Remus said proudly, placing a hand on Lee's shoulder. 

"At least he had his hair cut," Percy smiled. This was the first time Lee had seen him smile. He seemed like a different man - confident, easy-going. A born leader. "Have you explained the setting to him?" 

"We haven't had the chance yet." 

"All right," Percy said. "I'll give you the short version. Your team can fill in the blanks later on." He took a deep breath, as if what he was about to say was difficult for him. "There are very few people in the ministry we can trust. Others are either supporters of You-Know-Who or suspected as ones. Those people don't trust my father, or any other member of my family. Therefore, they don't know I'm a Weasley." 

"How can that be?" Lee interrupted, looking at Percy's hair. 

Percy smiled again, almost laughing. "Red hair is not exclusive in our family. But to make sure, there is a Disillusionment Charm around me." 

"Like a Hippogriff?" Lee asked in astonishment. 

"Exactly like a Hippogriff," Percy confirmed. "Only instead of acting on muggles, it acts on Ministry Officials. With the exclusion of my father, of course." Lee nodded, and Percy went on. "This way, I'm accepted into the highest circles in the ministry, and I'm also able to use the Ministry's endless resources to help our fight." He allowed a few seconds to pass by, and then said, "All right, so now you know everything, and Fudge will be here in ten minutes, which means you'll be out in nine. Debrief me." 

Lee found it amazing that Remus was able to squeeze the events of the past two days into the time frame, but as much as he concentrated, he couldn't think of a single detail that was missed. Percy kept an even expression all through Remus' monologue, including the part where he described Ron's injury. Lee assumed that Percy had prior knowledge of that. 

When they were done, the wall through which they came opened up again, leading them back into the concrete box where they had left their brooms. Lee took his Nimbus in his hand, but did not mount it. Instead, he leaned against the rough grey wall and breathed heavily. 

"A lot to take in, isn't it?" Remus said sympathetically. 

"It's not that," Lee answered. "It's just that I never thought I'd find Percy nice. That's a bit of a shock." He laughed nervously, and then remembered another detail. "If he's my boss," he thought out loud, "Then I'm dating my boss's sister." 

The two other men burst out laughing. "Come on," Mundungus said, "We'll show you the layer we call home." He flew right through the solid ceiling, and Lee, who had no other visible choice, did the same. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Horrible screams came from the grounds right outside the headmaster's office. They tore Severus away from his tortured daydream. Earlier, he had felt something. He hadn't been surprised by Dumbledore's question. He, too, thought he was being called. But it had gone just as it had appeared, unlike the Dark Lord's call, which doesn't go away until it is answered. 

The Headmaster turned to stare out the window. He was immediately joined by Mr Weasley and the three present Hogwarts professors. 

"Magnificent," rumbled Hagrid over the racket from outside. 

"This is Voldemort's snake," Dumbledore said quietly. "It may be the beginning of their grand attack." 

McGonagall squared her shoulders. "We have been preparing for this," she said, pulling her wand out. 

"No!" cried Harry, jumping out of his chair. Every eye in the room turned to him. "I forgot all about it. I -" he stumbled on his own words. "I told it that it could come with me." 

"It's attacking the children!" McGonagall exclaimed, raising her wand again. 

"No, it's not. It's just chasing them away," snarled Severus. 

"The poor snake's harmless," Hagrid interjected. 

"What do you mean, exactly?" asked Dumbledore, looking directly at Harry. 

"It was in the middle of a conversation," Harry tried to explain. "We talked about ducks and I mentioned there are some here -" 

"You're not making much sense," Hermione said, shaking her head. 

"Nagini spared his life," Draco took on the discussion. "In return, Harry promised her that she could come here and eat all the ducks she wants." 

"Nagini?" asked Mrs Weasley. 

"That's her name," Draco said, as if it was obvious. 

"That makes sense," Dumbledore hummed. "If she really left her former master, then she's welcome to stay here." 

"Where?" shrieked McGonagall. 

"Fang and I can use a female friend," Hagrid beamed. 

"Then for god's sake, go tell her that!" said McGonagall. "And make her stop chasing the kids. Tell her it is absolutely forbidden to scare any of our students!" 

Harry looked at her for a second longer and than ran out of the room, followed by Draco and Hagrid. In his rush, he almost knocked down Sirius who came running from the opposite direction. The giant strides of the gamekeeper allowed him to walk after the sprinting boys without falling behind. 

"Where are they off to?" Sirius asked, standing in the doorway, looking confused and a somewhat sick. 

"Oh, just going to talk a giant snake off the grounds," Severus answered. "What are you doing here?" 

Sirius' face turned almost grey. "I came to help Harry, actually," he said. 

"Oh, goody!" Severus exclaimed and then moved forward to catch Sirius, as he collapsed. With the headmaster's help, he lowered the exhausted man to one of the chairs and let him rest there, the colour slowly returning to his face. 

Severus walked back to the window just in time to see the three reach the snake. Hagrid tried to pet it while Harry and Draco were busy catching their breath. The large serpent seemed reluctant at first, but after what Severus could only assume was a short talk with Harry, it began twitching and rolling in the snow like a huge flobberworm with a stomachache. When it finally relaxed, the snake followed Hagrid in the direction of his hut. 

Severus shook his head as he turned away from the window. As if that was what the half-giant needed. Another monster. With all his heart he hoped that it'd turn out that what the last Blast Ended Skrewt favoured for food was large snakes. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"What do you see, My Lord?" Lucius kept his tone even, very careful not to enrage his master. The Dark Lord had seen all of his plans fall apart as if he were the loser in a game of Exploding Snap. They looked intently into a silver-framed grate in one of their smaller shelters. 

"Use your eyes, Malfoy!" Voldemort rasped. "I see absolutely nothing. The traitor must be surrounded by wards." 

"Yes My Lord," Lucius said hurriedly. "I am deeply disappointed. I was hoping to get revenge on Snape, the cheating, disloyal -" 

"You're no better than he," Voldemort cut him short. 

"But Master, I am your loyal servant!" the pale man protested. 

"You have denounced me for thirteen years," Voldemort hissed, turning his back to him. He waved his long, skeletal fingers in front of the fire, and it roared, green flames rising from it. "Let us see what our young friend is up to," he said, as the image changed to reveal Harry Potter, sitting on a hospital bed. 

The image expanded to include the entire wing. There was only one more boy there - Draco. 

"Perfect." Voldemort rubbed his hands. He reached into his robe and pulled out his wand. 

"Master!" Lucius almost cried. "My boy is there, too. Please, spare his life." 

"No," the Dark Lord said sturdily. "He has turned against me as well. He is getting exactly what he deserves." 

"We should wait until Potter is alone, My Lord," Lucius implored. 

"Do you dare defy me?" Voldemort thundered. His voice was like the din of a thousand snakes. He pointed his wand at the man beside him. 

"I'm sorry, My Lord," Lucius grovelled. "I made a mistake. Now is the right time. Of course." Lucius closed his eyes. He heard his master mumble a spell, knowing that it was aimed into the flames, but he couldn't bear to look. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Draco paced the infirmary floor, bumping into every bed that dared stand in his way. He knew he should be thankful for being alive, but between Hermione not talking to him, his father stunning him and Harry losing it, he did not consider it a very good day. 

As much as he tried, Draco could not bring himself to worry about Ron. He never liked the hot-tempered, redheaded boy. He did feel sorry for his friends. Harry stood over his bed, watching over him like a guardian angel. Draco doubted that it would help the sickly boy any. A very thin line stood between Ron and death. At least Harry seemed to find some consolation in standing there. 

Or not. Draco watched Harry with horror as he dropped to his knees, wrapping himself completely in Snape's cloak. Draco moved his fingers through his hair. He could think of nothing to say to a boy who was about to lose the closest person to him, for the second time in his life. Harry fidgeted under the cloak, his body as restless as his mind. 

A shining piece of polished wood appeared in Harry's hand. He had held out his wand, pointing it to himself. The first sparks of a powerful spell began to form on its tip. 

Draco crossed the room with a speed of a flash slicing through clouds. "Don't do it!" he shouted. 

A silver mist appeared from the tip of Harry's wand, surrounding him for a second, and then dissolving into the air. Draco tried to extricate the wand out of Harry's hand, which proved to be a very easy task. It fell clattering to the stone floor and rolled away from the boys. 

Harry fell to his back on the floor by Ron's bed, his body subdued. He was completely covered by Snape's cloak, his wand hand disappearing under it as well. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco yelled. He wanted to look into Harry's eyes. With a crude pull he tried to remove the cloak from his face, but although he was being rough on purpose, the black cloth wouldn't move. He tried again, and then realised what he'd done. 

That black thing was no cloak. It was a camouflaged Lethifold. And Harry wasn't trying to kill himself, he was trying to save his own life. Draco could kick himself. They had learned about this beast in the previous year, and they had even learned the theory of the spell to banish it. Draco remembered the words of the spell, "_Expecto Patronum_." The problem was that the only undergraduate wizard to ever master that spell was unable to use it, mainly because he had just been disarmed. Draco bit his lip in frustration. 

Taking a deep breath, Draco relaxed, hoping against hope that his first practical use of the spell would prove effective. He aimed his wand at the slowly moving dark shade and its victim. Concentrating, he muttered the spell. 

Something silver and beautiful blossomed at the tip of his wand. Within a second it grew to a heart-stopping awe-striking dragon. Its arrow-shaped tail was the last to be formed. It immediately charged at the Lethifold, making it release its victim and fight for its life, before it fled, sliding under the closed infirmary door. 

Draco watched the silver dragon disappear and then, holding his breath, he rushed to Harry. To his great relief, Harry was alive. It was bluntly obvious by the way the dark-haired boy took large gulps of air into his lungs. 

"Harry, you all right?" Draco said softly, sticking out his hand to help him back to a sitting position. 

Harry nodded. "Was that your Patronus?" he asked. 

It was Draco's turn to nod. "Why didn't yours work?" he asked. 

"I couldn't get a happy memory," Harry said sadly, looking at Ron. "All the ones I used before seem meaningless now." He turned to Draco. "What was your happy memory?" 

Draco stared at his feet. "You," he said. "As my friend." He was extremely embarrassed, but happy to have said that. 

"Thank you," Harry said, touching Draco's arm lightly. His voice was barely audible, but the message it carried was loud and clear. 

A/N: Making Draco's Patronus a dragon was originally Cassandra Claire's idea, which she used in her amazing "Draco Sinister". I happen to completely agree with her choice, although, not with her reasoning. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Charlie followed the rest of his family into the Hogwarts hospital wing. Only Percy was missing to complete the parading Weasley set. And Ron, of course. For some reason, Snape was the Professor assigned to walk with them around the school. Charlie could not see why Dumbledore would choose a Slytherin for the job, but the headmaster had his reasons. 

Charlie watched his kid sister peek hesitantly into the room. She probably wanted to make sure Madam Pomfrey wasn't there. Obviously, she wasn't, or they'd have already heard her angry screams. A good thing, too, because there was no one to treat her for the heart attack she'd undoubtedly have had upon seeing so many people in the hospital. 

Ginny was just losing the flush she had on when she first joined them. She explained about seeing Lee off with his new partners, and Charlie wondered if her cheeks were red because of the dusk coldness outside or for another reason. He'd heard that Ginny had started dating the third member of the notorious triangle, but this was the first he'd seen her since then. She seemed happy about it, ignoring her tear-red eyes, that is. 

Another rumour Charlie had heard, but had a hard time believing, was the one about Draco Malfoy; the son of a notorious Death Eater who had become Harry Potter's friend. At least what they said about Malfoy and Hermione didn't seem true. The girl, who entered the infirmary with them, regarded him as cautiously and grudgingly as ever. The ginger cat in her hands looked at the boy with evident hostility. 

"So, I've heard you got rid of a huge snake just now," Charlie said, trying to talk to Harry about anything but Ron. 

"I didn't get rid of it, just got it relocated," Harry refused to take credit. 

"You'd better teach Hagrid some Parseltongue," laughed Mr Weasley. 

"I tried," Harry sighed. "He got the spitting part, but he couldn't form comprehensible words. Nagini almost had a fit, she was laughing so hard." 

"Still, it was chasing a bunch of Hufflepuffs on the grounds, wasn't it?" Charlie insisted. 

"Not chasing," Harry muttered. "It was just trying to ask them for directions to the kitchen. It was hungry after a long crawl. Not its fault that they misunderstood." 

"But it _is_ the most dangerous creature that has entered the school in a while," said Mrs Weasley. 

"You've heard the boy," Snape snarled. "There was nothing dangerous about the creature. He did not save the world. He just showed a lost snake the way out." 

Snape's sarcasm was lost on Harry. "The Lethifold was much worse," he added. 

"What Lethifold?" gasped Mrs Weasley. 

"Snape's cloak turned out to be a Lethifold," Harry said simply. "It almost had me, but Draco conjured a Patronus and chased it away. It took the shape of a Dragon," he added, looking directly at Charlie. 

"Really?" Charlie asked with interest. "Which breed?" He moved closer to Draco to allow Snape a free passage. 

"I think it was a Common Welsh Green," Draco said. "But I can't be sure. It didn't exactly have its normal colour." The door slammed behind Snape's back. 

Charlie and Draco delved into a long discussion about the shapes of the wings different Dragons have. Charlie was careful not to enclose too many details about his work, just in case the intelligent boy he discovered turned out to be with the dark side after all. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius was the first to step out of the gargoyle-guarded door. He didn't have a problem with the fact that Madam Pomfrey had to stay back for him. She'd been taking care of him since he was just a schoolboy. He was incredibly humiliated that Arabella and Hermione waited for him as well. He thought about needing to prove to them that he could take care of himself, as he tripped on the gargoyle's foot and nearly fell. 

"Are you all right?" Arabella rushed to him. Sirius could see that she was holding back her laughter. 

"Perfectly fine," he grumbled. "I don't see what's so funny." 

At the sound of these words, Arabella could no longer keep her laughter under control. Madam Pomfrey joined her with short chortles, while Hermione stared at the three of them, looking bemused. 

Ignoring the girls, Sirius strode animatedly forward, taking a turn towards the school infirmary. What he saw beyond the corner made him stand on the spot. In his wickedest dreams he never imagined he's see Severus Snape so humiliated. 

Snape was on all fours, regarding a black cloak that was tossed a few feet away from him. With a battle cry worthy of a jungle tiger he stormed the tattered piece of clothing. Hugging it tight in an excellent impression of a man fighting a crocodile, Snape shook the cloak vigorously, grunting with effort. 

Sirius was enjoying the show so much that he didn't even notice the three women behind him. He wanted Snape to see him, but not just yet. First, he wanted to see what he was going to do next. 

"What is going on?" Arabella asked urgently. 

"Shhh..." Sirius hushed her. "Don't disturb him." 

Snape, however, picked up the conversation. He leaped to his feet, the cloak in his hand. Moving his finger through his greasy hair to fix it up a little, he stared at the group, looking abashed. 

"Everything all right?" Madam Pomfrey asked, taking a step closer to the Potions Professor. 

"It's a Lethifold," Snape spat, shaking the cloak in front of him. 

"It's your cloak," Sirius snorted. "The one you gave Harry. If you wanted it back, you could have said so." 

"It was given to me by You-Know-Who, and it is a dormant Lethifold, and it just tried to eat your precious godson." Snape looked smug, as the colour was lost from Sirius's face. 

"Where is he?" Sirius asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to use his fist on that jeering smile. 

"Oh, don't worry," Snape said slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. "He's fine. He's in the infirmary. Now, if you'll excuse me," he added, hanging the cloak on the tip on his wand, "I have a Lethifold to incinerate." 

aaaaaaaaaa

The door opened again. Charlie turned to it lazily, sure that it was Snape who had returned. He was surprised to see Dumbledore, leading Minister Fudge. They were accompanied by none other than his pompous brother, Percy, who seemed even more conceited than ever. 

"Terrible, terrible," the minister said grimly, offering his hand to Mr Weasley and then to other members of the family. Charlie moved out of his way. He had heard the recent news about Fudge and had a hard time keeping a straight face from up close. Fudge tried to reach him, but gave up when Charlie turned his back to him, pretending to be interested in Harry. 

"My dear boy," Fudge turned to Harry as well. "I hear you were very lucky to escape a group of lunatic followers of You-Know-Who again." He walked up to him as he said that, Percy following him all over the room, shaking the hands of his parents and siblings as if he were a mere stranger. 

Fudge turned to Dumbledore, fake concern in his eyes. "Why doesn't he have a robe?" he asked. 

"I'm not wearing robes," Harry grumbled, "because Voldemort tore them off me." He seemed to enjoy seeing Fudge wince at the sound of the name. 

"You're delirious, boy," Fudge laughed dryly. "You-Know-Who is dead. Think. What would he want with your robes?" 

Madam Pomfrey ushered Hermione, Sirius and Arabella into the infirmary, and then stood stock still in the doorway, stunned at the number of people who congested it. Charlie held his breath as Sirius changed into a dog a split second before Fudge turned to them. 

The minister regarded the nurse with evident displeasure. "The boy needs some mind clearing Potion and a good sleep," he said in a commanding voice. "Are you going to take care of him?" 

Madam Pomfrey shook with anger. "Out! Everybody out!" She shouted, but got no response. "Anyone who's not injured, get out of the room!" she tried again, to no avail. She looked at Fudge's demanding expression, raised her hands up in the air and then let them drop again to the sides of her body, indicating that there was nothing she could do. 

"All right," Fudge said in an authoritative tone that surprised everyone. As the Minister of Magic, he should have possessed such a voice, but they thought that similarly to other ministerial qualities, he lacked that virtue as well. 

"Harry, Draco, Hermione, Miss Figg," again, he surprised everyone by actually knowing their names. "You are allowed to stay here. Everybody else - out. He watched over the people marching out in a single file and grumbled as Sirius sat by Harry's bed. 

"The dog stays here," Harry said before Fudge had a chance to protest. 

"All right," Fudge decided not to argue. He pushed Percy out of the door. "Come, Weatherby, you still have a lot to learn if you want to be able to take my place one day." 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Harry, I want you to drink this and get into bed," Madam Pomfrey urged him. 

"Just a while longer," Harry objected. He didn't know how long he had stood by Ron's bed. Everything outside had turned black a while before, but Harry did not want to move. This was the first time he had been left almost by himself since the fatal events of that morning, and he wanted to be alone, to think. He had a feeling that Sirius and Draco were doing everything in their power to keep him from it. 

"Harry, Come on," Sirius broke his train of thoughts. He nudged his cheek, trying to make Harry shift his eyes from Ron." 

The light of the torches danced on Ron's face. By their reddish light, Harry could almost pretend that Ron looked less pale than before. There was no physical hint to the curse he sustained. His skin was clearer than that of anyone else in the room. His eyes were closed, and his induced breathing regular, but it was painfully clear that he wasn't just sleeping. Something was badly amiss. The little twitches and eyes movement of a boy who's having a dream. There was none of that. Or wasn't there? 

"I think he moved!" Harry cried. This brought everyone in the room to him. 

"I'm afraid that cannot be," Madam Pomfrey said gravely. 

"I'm telling you, he had a tic in his nose." 

"His nose is so long," Draco jeered, "that maybe the news of his condition has't reached it yet." 

Harry fought the strong urge to punch Draco. _Why am I fighting this_, he thought, and jabbed his elbow hard into the smirking boy's ribs. 

Draco's protest died in his throat when Ron turned his head to the side. 

"Amazing," mumbled Madam Pomfrey, moving her wand a few inched above the thrashing boy. "Everybody, give him some air." 

The group moved a few feet back, but Harry insisted on them going to the other side of the infirmary. He wanted the nurse to have the best conditions to do her job. He, Sirius, Hermione and Draco sat on one of the beds, while Arabella went to fetch the Weasleys. 

After several long minutes, Madam Pomfrey beckoned them closer. 

Ron still looked so pale that his freckles where white, but his eyes were open and seemed focused. He looked at Harry, and for some reason, smiled. 

"Can he talk?" Harry asked. 

"Why don't you ask him?" Madam Pomfrey answered with a smile. 

Harry didn't need to ask him though. Before he did, Ron opened his mouth and said, "It worked." His voice was weaker than a newborn flobberworm, but his smile was unwavering. 

"Yes, it did," Sirius said softly. "You saved Harry's life." 

"I'm sorry," Ron croaked. 

"For saving his life?" Draco teased. "Yeah, we're sorry too." 

"No, for -" Ron began, but Draco cut him off. 

"Blowing your cover? Well, you didn't have much of a choice, did you?" 

Ron's eyes widened. "My cover?" he asked. 

"What happened?" Draco said. "The curse ate your brain? Can't you remember you were posing as a Death Eater, to help us get Hermione out?" He reached fro Hermione with his hand, but she moved away from his touch. 

"I wasn't posing," Ron said gravely. 

"We all saw you," Harry said. He was sorry he couldn't kick Ron. He really wanted to. "You planned this with Draco from the day we left Hogwarts. Voldemort believed you. You were even wearing his clothes." 

Ron recovered slowly from the shiver at the sound of the name. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione forestalled it. "I think he's tired," she told Madam Pomfrey. "I think he needs to rest." 

The nurse jumped at the opportunity to fill her duty. "That's right," she said. "Everybody, back to bed." She patted Ron's head. "I'll get you a sleeping potion in a minute. I -" She paused, somewhat embarrassed. "I didn't think you'd need one tonight." 

"He can have mine," Harry said. He looked at Sirius and Draco. The thought of the two smothering him for one more second was too much for him. They did make him feel better, but they also embarrassed him to no end. "I'm so tired, I think I'll go to sleep right now." he pecked Hermione on the cheek, ignored Draco's choked sound and went into bed. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night. Sudden coldness on her legs told her that Crookshanks had been there and had just left. That was probably the reason she woke. Although everyone there was fast asleep, the breathing sounds of seven sleeping people and one girl awake filled the small room with a noise that resembled the wind on the high of the mountains. 

She got up and went to Harry's bed. Throughout the entire afternoon, he had been surrounded by too many people and when they had finally left, Sirius and Draco guarded him more ardently than a squad of Aurors. The last thing she wanted was to be near Draco, who kept shooting inviting glances to her. Or was it despite those luring looks? It was unbelievable to her that only that morning they had all been faced with mortal danger. The weight of the last few days swarmed over her, causing her knees to buckle. 

Strong arms caught her before she hit the floor. "Draco," she croaked. Her heart twittered and Hermione made her best to hush it. "I didn't know you were up." With a great effort she tore herself from him. "Don't touch me." She turned her gaze back to Harry. 

"You love him, don't you?" Draco asked. He couldn't disguise the bitterness in his voice. 

"Yes, I do." Hermione knew she was being horribly cruel, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to hurt him. Her love for Harry, however strong, was not what Draco had meant. 

"I hope the two of you will be happy together," Draco said, the words sounded like the incantation of a curse. 

"That's it? No sarcastic remarks about how much we deserve each other, or something similar?" 

"No. Actually, I don't think he deserves you." Draco sounded almost choked. "You're too smart and beautiful and witty and amiable and unbelievably attractive for someone who only wants you because you're brave." He took a quick breath and went on. "And you are. A brave Gryffindor," he laughed bitterly. "But you're so much more. You'd have been the star in any house you'd have been sorted to." 

"Yes," Hermione gave him a lopsided smile. "I'd be great in Slytherin. They just love Muggle-borns there." 

"That's because they're - we're - a bunch of fools who don't recognise a good thing if it sits on us and sings the national anthem. But I promise you - in those rare moments when we do realise we've been wrong -" he took another breath, eager to go on before he lost her attention. "It hits us like a thunderbolt and doesn't let go." He took her hand and placed it over his heart. "Please, Hermione," his voice quivered, "I beg you to reconsider." 

A single tear ran down Hermione's cheek. She turned her head aside. Her eyes fell on Viktor and Cho. They had wandered into the infirmary late at night, and after having been severely scolded by Madam Pomfrey, declared their death-defying love for each other. The nerve-wracked nurse had obviously tried to toss the relatively healthy Viktor out of the hospital, but Cho had insisted that she trusted no one more than she trusted him, and she needed him by her side. Hermione knew she could never be with someone she didn't trust. 

"Why did you kiss that brunette, then?" she asked. 

"I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. There was some spell in her hair -" 

"So she put a spell on you. Is that it?" Hermione cut him off, pulling her hand back. 

"No." Draco shook his head furiously. "But she tried. And she kissed me. I pushed her away, but she tried it again. Her hair blunted my reaction, and that's when you came in. I didn't kiss her back. I was just dazed." 

Hermione stood in front of him, her lips tight and her eyes regarding him intently. 

"You have to believe me!" Draco looked at her as if suddenly remembering something. "Do you still have that veritaserum?" He was by the side of her bed in two strides, heaving her pack from the floor and toppling its contents over the unmade blanket. 

Hermione took the bag from his hands and began to collect her things, throwing them inside in no particular order. "That won't be necessary," she said softly. "I believe you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to straighten up. 

Draco didn't need much encouragement to do the only thing he could think of in the last two days. He swept her into his arms, pressing her as close to him as he could without crushing her ribs. After standing like that for a long minute, he released her ever so slightly, allowing them just the necessary space for a long, passionate kiss. That kiss was followed by others, shorter and more urgent. He slowly began to make his was down towards her neck and her shoulders. 

Hermione shivered under his soft, cold lips. She felt her knees go weak again, but this time Draco didn't catch her. He directed her fall to the bed and spread out beside her, his right arm trapped under her body and his left guiding her head towards another kiss. 

Hermione could not understand how such cold lips were able to make her feel so warm. Only one day without him made her miss him so much. She put everything she felt into those kisses, and when he moved to her neck, she felt desperately lost. She didn't protest, though. His gentle touch made her think that she couldn't speak even if she really wanted to. 

It was a regrettable fact that they were in a magical infirmary. Moving her hand on Draco's back, Hermione thought that it would have been much nicer if they were wearing muggle hospital-robes. The type that's open on the back. She could feel Draco's muscles moving under the thin cloth, but that only made her want to curse it off him even more. 

With a smile, she remembered she could actually do it. Her wand was on her nightstand. She stretched and almost reached it, when Draco suddenly stopped nuzzling her neck. His hand froze on her hip. That only made Hermione even more aware of his previous caresses. She shivered again, gasping for air. 

"Did you hear something?" he whispered. 

"No," Hermione whispered back, surprised that she could use her voice. She pulled Draco back to her, leaving the wand out of it for a while. 

"Psss... psss..." This time they both caught the quiet rustle. A crack of light appeared in the door, and that voice was heard again, louder this time. 

Draco's body tensed. With a very slow motion he pulled out his wand. He held it close to the bed, making sure it wasn't attracting the light. The door opened wider, and a boy slid in. 

"Relax, Draco," Hermione whispered. "It's just Neville. Probably looking for his toad again. The poor boy," she chuckled. "He never knows where that toad is. Been the same since the day I met him." 

"Don't you think he should have grown up by now?" Draco grunted. 

"Maybe. But that's part of his charm." She followed Neville with her eyes as he searched around the room, checking every corner, looking under each of the beds. Unaware that he was being watched, Neville bent under Hermione's bed, pulling away the covers that blocked his view. Hermione pulled back. 

The mild-mannered boy jumped two feet in the air with a squeak, landing on his rear end at some distance. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. Then, his eyes fell on the blonde head beside her. "And - Malfoy?" he spluttered. He jumped to his feet and rushed to grab the lying boy by his collar. "Let her go!" 

"Got off, Longbottom," Draco drawled. "As a matter of fact, get out of the room." He pushed Neville off of him. 

"What are you doing to Hermione?" Neville yelled, his face getting very red. "Hasn't she been through enough? You have no right to be here!" 

"No, Longbottom," Draco said, swinging his legs out of the bed and sitting up. "I am a patient here. You're the one who's out of place." 

"Neville, that's all right," Hermione said quickly, before the fight could develop any further. "Draco's not doing anything to me. He's my friend." Neville almost choked, and began to cough, desperately seeking air. "I'm serious," Hermione insisted. "He's changed. I think you may actually like him now." That was too much for Neville, who sat hard on the floor, gawking at Hermione. 

"You're looking for your toad?" Hermione tried to turn the conversation around. 

"No." Neville pointed at Draco. "His friend Crabbe stepped on him four days ago. Crushed him to death." 

Draco grimaced. He wondered how Hermione would react if he were to bless Crabbe for doing so. Smartly, he decided to shut up. "Oh," he muttered unconcernedly. 

"My grandmother got me a cat," Neville continued. "But I can't find her anywhere. She's part Kneazle, you know." 

"Could that sorry heap of rugs under the sink be what you're looking for?" Draco asked, pointing a lazy finger to it. 

"No, that sorry heap of rugs is Crookshanks, thank you very much," Hermione said testily. She leaped out of bed and walked over to the sink. Neville and Draco followed her. 

Leaning over her cat, as if about to lift it, Hermione stopped. "Look!" she whispered to the two boys. Crookshanks lay curled on the floor, his body and tail creating an uneven ring. In the space between his legs and his bushy tail lay another cat, her colours similar to his, but she was no more than half his size. Her head rested on the joint of his upper leg. 

"Dinah!" Neville called happily. 

"Aren't they cute together?" Hermione asked, her palms held together in front of her chest. "Let's just leave them, all right?" 

Neville nodded. "I'll come get her in the morning," he said. "Just don't let her out. My worst nightmare is that she'll wonder into Snape's shower." He gave Draco one last dubious look and left the room. 

"Look how well they seem to complete each other," Hermione said, her eyes still fixed on the two ginger cats. When Draco failed to answer, she looked up to him. A very wicked smile was spread on his face, but he said absolutely nothing. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Harry woke up with the first rays of the sun. He'd just had a wonderful dream. He had gone down to the lake with his parents. They had strolled aimlessly around it. Harry thought they must have walked half the night. Then, he remembered the silver reflections of the sun on the water and the bright green dragonflies that kept crossing their path. He knew whose gift this dream was, and it made him sick. 

A strange feeling that someone was watching him spread inside Harry even before he opened his eyes. He tried to pretend he was sleeping, when he realised there was someone actually there. He could hear that person's breaths. He looked up. 

"Good, you're up," Dumbledore said as Harry struggled out of his blanket. "Shhh! Don't wake the others." 

Harry sat up and looked at the headmaster. He wondered if the old man had had any sleep. He looked like he hadn't. His twinkling blue eyes were framed by dark circles and his creases seemed deeper than ever. 

Dumbledore took Harry's left hand in his, turning his Dark Mark up. "Do you want to get rid of this?" he asked. Before Harry could give his answer, he added, "You don't have to. There are some advantages to keeping it. I won't be disappointed if you decide not to have it removed." 

"I don't want anything to do with Voldemort," Harry replied harshly. The residuals of the dream made him feel sick. 

Despite the things he'd said, Dumbledore looked relieved. "In that case, come with me." He led the way to the door. 

Harry wrapped the hospital robes around him. He paused near Hermione's bed, looking at the two lovers sleeping on it, theirs limbs so entangled it was hard to tell which leg belonged to who. "What about Draco?" he asked. "Shouldn't he come with us?" He didn't ask about Ron, knowing that he was too weak. 

"Young Draco accepted his branding," sighed Dumbledore. "Even if he regrets it now, he will have to live with it to the day he dies." 

The morning chill penetrated the castle and was felt exceptionally well in the larger passageways. The freezing floor sent blades of ice into Harry's bare feet. 

"There is another thing," Dumbledore said as he led the way through the corridors. "You have never accepted my brand either. It was your mother who went through the ritual. You can rid yourself of that mark as well." 

"I don't want to," Harry said. He instinctively tried to protect it with his hand, when he realised he didn't know where it was. "What does it look like, anyway?" he asked. 

"You can't see it," Dumbledore smiled benignly, placing a clenched fist over his heart. "It's in here." 

When Harry's feet were already numb with the cold, Dumbledore finally stopped in front of a door. Harry thought it looked vaguely familiar, but he didn't recognise it until they went inside. Then, he remembered that this was the same small classroom in which the weighing of the wands had been conducted, right before the Triwizard tournament. 

Dumbledore extended his hand to Harry. The boy submissively placed his left arm in the old man's hand, his sleeve pulled high up. 

Dumbledore held out his wand, but kept it low. "Now, before we begin, a word of caution," he said, his eyes taking a dark shade. "This spell is unpleasant. You may feel somewhat sick, or even giddy. However, have no fear. There is no danger." He looked into Harry's bright green eyes. "That is, since you haven't accepted the branding. If you've had accepted it, it would have killed you." 

Harry didn't move. He didn't even blink. 

"If you want to reconsider your decision, this is the time to do so." 

Harry lifted his chin and said nothing. 

Seeing that Harry's persistence did not waver, the old headmaster began enchanting the spell, touching the tip of his wand to the mark on Harry's arm. 

The red mark began distorting and losing its shape. What was clearly a skull with a snake turned into a twisted vermilion line that then took the shape of a multi-headed arrow. It kept changing and shifting without lingering on a single shape, changing its colour as well - red, orange, yellow - it was a golden phoenix for a brief moment, and kept transforming. 

Harry felt as if he was being taken in a Gringotts' cart, which went out of control. Images rushed in front of his eyes, too swift for him to see what was in them. He felt seasick and wanted to sit down, but he couldn't. The spell held his arm attached to Dumbledore's wand like one gets attached to a Portkey while using it to travel. The comparison to a Portkey was also good to describe what he was feeling. He felt he was stuck in a never-ending Portkey transfer. There was a buzzing in his ears and the swirling images became darker and darker, until they became completely black and he was not aware any more of whether he was standing or not. He assumed he was not, and then he assumed nothing more. 

aaaaaaaaaa

Sirius opened his eyes lazily. Feeling Arabella beside him and knowing that Harry was safe in the next bed had a good influence on the quality of his sleep. He yawned and took a peek in Harry's direction. His stretch froze in mid-motion. 

"Where's Harry?" he bellowed so loud that it woke everybody up with a start. The hospital door opened with a bang and Madam Pomfrey and Snape rushed inside. Sirius leaped leaping over Arabella and landed on the floor beside Harry's empty bed. 

"What's all the fuss?" Arabella asked, sitting up to watch him. 

"Harry's not in his bed." His face became a mask of worry. "You don't think he's done something stupid, do you?" 

"It's Harry we're talking about," Snape sneered. "Of course he's done something stupid." If he was seeking to inflame Sirius, he had failed. Sirius paled significantly and had to support himself on the headboard. 

"Oh, relax Black," Snape mocked Sirius' worry. "He's with the headmaster. They're getting rid of that little souvenir You-Know-Who had left him." 

"Dumbledore's removing the Dark Mark from him? I didn't know it was possible." Sirius' eyes were wide with surprise. 

"It's dangerous, but accomplishable in some cases," Snape said vaguely. 

"Then why didn't you do it?" Sirius asked viciously, pointing at the Potions Master's left arm. 

"Well, that would have made it impossible to remain a spy, wouldn't it?" Snape jeered. "And then we wouldn't have had your beloved godson back." 

"From what I've heard, you had nothing to do with bringing Harry back alive," Sirius made a counterattack. "As a matter of fact, he would have been dead had it not been for Ron." 

The redheaded boy blushed, which finally made him look like himself. 

Snape lowered his eyes to the floor. 

"What good are you as a spy, anyway?" Sirius continued relentlessly. "You won't even testify about Pettigrew on my behalf." 

"Who said that I won't?" Snape asked hotly. 

Again, Sirius looked surprised. "You will?" he asked, as if not daring to believe. 

"I couldn't do it before," Snape said. "But now that I've been exposed, there's no reason not to." 

Sirius couldn't hold back and swept Snape into a crushing hug. 

"All right, that's a reason not to testify," Snape said with resentment. "Thank you, Black, for showing me the light." 

Sirius held up his hands, a wide smile still spread over his face. "It'll never happen again," he said. 

"Good," Snape spat. "Because if it does, not only will I not testify, but I will also take you personally to the Dementors, making sure that this time you won't escape." 

"It's a deal," Sirius laughed. He turned to Arabella, where he knew his happy reaction would be welcome. 

aaaaaaaaaa

"Harry?" A voice came from a great distance, penetrating the thick wall of silence that surrounded him. 

"Harry?" It came again, closer this time. Harry opened his eyes to look at the speaker. 

"Ron?" Harry asked, a red head hovering over him, still out of focus. He recognised his usual infirmary bed. The feeble sun in the window behind him indicated that it was still morning. Harry could recognise the time of day by the angle of the sunrays through this particular window. He'd spent that much time looking through it. 

The response was somewhat delayed. "No, it's me, Fred. Ron is still too weak to get out of bed." 

Harry blinked at him, the memories of the last twenty-four hours swarming into his head like a giant shock wave. He muttered a very dirty word, and quickly apologised. 

"No need to be sorry," Fred smiled at him. "I feel quite the same way about it." 

"What happened?" Harry asked. 

"Look for yourself," Sirius said, moving closer to him. He patted the boy's left arm, gently moving away the sleeve of his robe. 

Harry looked at it and smiled. He was so used to having the Dark Mark by then, that the skin looked almost bare without it. It was white and fresh and pure. 

Sirius placed a breakfast tray on Harry's knees. "I'll be leaving now," he said, ruffling Harry's eternally dishevelled hair. "The place will be swarming with visitors soon, and I don't want to take chances." He looked at Draco, used to having the blonde boy at Harry's side. Seeing that Draco was too occupied with Hermione, he made a face. "You'll be all right here?" he asked. 

"No problem," Harry replied. He actually felt better than he had in weeks. 

Taking his canine form, Sirius gave Harry one last look. Harry could swear that the dog was smiling at him. He ambled to the door and tried to open it with his front paw. The task proving impossible, he turned back into a man, opened the door, transfigured again, and was just in time to jab his nose in the way, to stop the door from closing. With a little yelp, he went through it. 

Watching Sirius with amusement spiced with concern, Harry didn't notice Krum approaching him. 

"I owe you an apa-ology," Krum said, making Harry jump. 

"For what?" Harry asked, pushing his untouched food aside. 

"For calling you a Death Eater. For saying you vere to blame for vhat happa-ned to Cho." Krum pronounced the last word with extra softness. 

"You said I'd get someone killed, and I almost did," Harry said bitterly, looking at his best friend. Although it was mid-morning, Ron hadn't woken from his potion-induced sleep yet. Fred was hovering over him, and Harry had a strong suspicion that he was preparing a nasty surprise for his brother for when he finally woke up. 

"From vot I hear, he may haff safed your life, but you safed his soul," Krum said, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, picking up his food tray, as not to tip it over. 

Harry tried to keep a straight face. He picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it innocently. "What are you talking about?" he asked when he was sure his voice wouldn't give away the secret. 

"It is nice, vot you're hiding your friend, but I know he vorked for You-Know-Who," Krum said, staring into Harry's anxious eyes. "Don't vorry, I von't tell anyone. I, too, think that he has earned his second chance. But just think. Vot would haff happened if he hadn't jumped into that curse?" 

"I'd be dead, and he'd be all right?" Harry said sullenly. 

"Except for the obvious," Krum said, wrinkling his connected thick brows. 

Harry shook his head, signing that he didn't know what the other boy had meant. 

"He'd still be serving You-Know-Who. And after he'd haff killed a few innocent people, he'd haff met some Auror or other and lost the duel. Either he'd be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban, or he'd be dead. In a vay, you safed his life." 

The thought of Ron fighting Aurors on Voldemort's side made Harry sputter and pale. 

"I'm sorry for your friend, Harry. But you did the best thing you could do for him. He vill probably be all right in a few weeks," Krum concluded, lowering the tray of food onto Harry's knees. 

Harry nodded, imagining Mrs Weasley learning that her son had become a Death Eater. It was not a pretty sight. There was no doubt that at least for Ron's family, it was better this way. He took another bite of toast, wondering if there was anything he could have done that would have made Ron choose differently. 

"I'll be leaving in a few days," Krum said, breaking Harry's train of thoughts. "Do you vant to try and catch some Snitches before I go?" 

"I would like that," Harry said, "But I don't think that would be appropriate. I don't think Ron would mind, but I don't want to offend his family." 

"Actually, it was my idea," said a voice from the door. Harry looked up to see Charlie, holding three broomsticks and a bag of Quidditch balls. 

"Right now?" Harry asked, dazed. 

"I've got your Firebolt," Charlie said, stepping into the room and giving Harry one of the brooms. 

"Where did you get it?" Harry exclaimed, fondling his old and beloved broomstick. 

"The centaurs brought it here days ago. Scared the hell out of everyone," Charlie smiled. He gave Krum one of the remaining brooms. "Well?" he said, trying to look impatient. 

Harry threw the piece of toast back to his plate and got up. "Why not?" he said. After all, he _was_ alive, thanks to his friend, and there was no better way than playing Quidditch to remember that. 

aaaaaaaaaa

A/N:  
If we ignore the obvious questions about the future and well-being of all the main characters, some things still remain unanswered:  
- Why did Fudge call Percy 'Weatherby'? (well, that's a given)  
- What is the meaning of the bond between Harry and Dumbledore and what does it have to do with Harry's amazing MQ?  
- Why was the Dark Mark removed in that specific classroom?  
- Will Voldemort ever try to control Draco or Ron through their Dark Marks?  
- Who were the wizards and witches branded by Dumbledore, and how were they chosen?  
- Will ducks become an endangered species around Hogwarts, now that Nagini lives there?  
- Will Remus and Mundungus ever find peace and plenty? (With each other, maybe?)  
- Will Viktor Krum ever actually star in a series called after him? 

The support you guys showed in the last few days was overwhelming. I've never had my mail box so full in my life. You guys are the greatest! 

Read? Review!

I'd like to thank you all. I've learned much from you and I enjoyed being here. I'll still be available in the HPFanFiction and HPParadise egoups, and, as always, you're welcome to mail me. I promise to reply to any mail not containing death threats. 

As for the personalised 'thank-you's: First and foremost, to my wonderful, patient, supportive and helpful betas: **Jim Flanagan**, **Parker**, and **Leiney**, who all helped make this chapter what it is. Extra thanks to **Jeralyn**, **Dinah**, **April**, **Isabelle Centeno**, **Pippin (Amanita Lestrange)**, **Blue Butterfly**, **Heath** and **fluffy** who didn't take part in this chapter, but were there for me on other times. 

Common Concern:  
**1.** I'm terribly, terribly sorry to have disappointed all you Ron "fans". I did originally write the chapter with him dead, but I chickened out of it at the last minute. It was just too depressing. No good at all. I still have a copy of that chapter, safely tacked in my hard-drive VBEG.  
**2.** Nagini: It seems to me that Harry keeps forgetting about the creatures that help him (Moaning Myrtle, Dobby, Hedwig, ...) in his condition, he forgot about Nagini as well. Now you know she made it all right to Hogwarts. 

**Lizzy/Tygrestick:** Oh, so sorry for ruining the RonIsDead dance for you. Read the comments before the 'thank you' notes to see why.  
**Silverfox:** You may call me a cheater now :(. If you really want to, I can mail you the version with dead Ron, but it is depressing. Read the comments before the 'thank you' notes to see why. Lol about Nagini. I think she's a female, but not all snakes.  
**DracoMalfoyLover:** Er... Sorry about Ron. I was with you for a while, but, to be perfectly honest, the chapter was horrible without him. Read the comments before the 'thank you' notes to see why. Thank you for giving me genuine criticism. It's this type of reviews that help me and keep me writing. As for Ron being dead at the beginning of the chapter, I have just one thing to say. Never believe a word Voldemort says!  
**Crystal Music:** Er... The alternative shipping chapter I have is Harry/Draco... I don't think you want that... I may write some H/H sometime. Keep posted on the HPParadise. Oh, dear. I disappointed you too about Ron... Read the comments before the 'thank you' notes to see why.  
**Simon 'Dr' Branford:** Let's see if you can stay on the 'thank you section' this time around :). Er... I did kill Ron. I did. I'm a bad person. I chickened out. Nobody tried to kill Voldie because, as far as they know, he's undead. To be perfectly honest, your cameo wasn't important enough for me to care if he lived or died. Let's assume he's alive, just to keep you at peace. I never even considered killing Draco. And I'm not afraid of one or two hundred death threats :). It would have just made things dull, and would've sent Hermione into a ToT-style depression.  
**milleniumsailormoon:** Thanks!  
**none:** Thanks, and sorry for not meeting your shipping pref.  
**Danielle:** Thanks! AngieJ, the author of TiP is not in my yahoo!group. I'm in hers. She certainly is in HPParadise.  
**Birdie:** Thanks! Well, I hope you liked the rest.  
**AVK:** Thanks! Read the common comments before the 'thank you' section for explanations about Ron and Nagini.  
**Sarah:** Thanks! I hope that your friend read your review and now believes you that you don't wand her guy. Either that, or I hope you get the guy. He sounds interesting VBEG.  
**Ria:** Thanks!  
**Danika:** Oh, boy, you make me feel a bit better about bringing Ron back. Read the common comments before the 'thank you' section for explanations about Ron and Nagini.  
**magicallittleme:** Thanks! Well, apparently Ron isn't dead (my bad). Read the common comments before the 'thank you' section to see why.  
**Phyllia:** Thanks! Almost broke up Draco/Hermione, but chickened out of that one as well... Oh, dear.  
**Dagan:** Hon, if you want great fics to follow, come join us over at HPParadise. Thanks for including me in the same sentence as Lori!  
**Saitaina:** Hope you're better now :). Well, out of everything that bugged you, at least I brought Ron back. Maybe you can have another snogging session with him sometime VBEG.  
**Niffler:** Thanks! I'm glad you can stomach D/H in this story.  
**Dementia:** 'swad'... hmmm... Nice ring to it. Read the common comments before the 'thank you' section for explanations about Ron and Nagini.  
**herm:** Thanks!  
**Meriadoc:** I'm sorry, I couldn't keep Harry depressed. In the first version he just kept mopping the floor with his head. Couldn't let things stay like that. Your teacher really knows nothing about creativity. Ashwinder is a great animal. My favourite beats. More about Ron and Nagini - read the common comments before the 'thank you' section.  
**Blugder Witch (Dinah):** That Fido! Well, better that you put your review on HPParadise. That way I could answer right away. Check out the beta's thank-you-s  
**LunaLuv:** I hope you find this. Thanks!  
**heidi tandy:** Well, turns out I was really too nice to Ron. Read the common comments before the 'thank you' section for explanations about Ron and Nagini.  
**Becky:** NO.  
**Parker:** Well, you got to beta this chapter twice :). I've recently discovered how difficult it is to beta when you're too absorbed into the story.  
**Landry Anne:** I hope that you feel better, now that I chickened out of killing Ron.  
**Amanita Lestrange:** Thanks! You said that the Slytherin common room must have been very interesting in the days of WMPP, if they were all Slytherins, and I agreed.  
**Ice Dragoness (April):** Check out the betas thanks. Eek. Sorry for bringing back Ron, but you know, I had your review in mind when I did it. There was simply no humour in the original dead!Ron version. Er... yeah, I'm old. Rub it in :). Read the common comments before the 'thank you' section for explanations about Ron and Nagini. You almost had the longest review award, but Dinah snatched it out of your hands with a huge review on HPParadise.  
**Sandra Solaria Dees:** Thanks!  
**Mwalimu:** I did turn a bit cruel. Forgot all about the parody in his fic. Good thing I remembered it just before uploading a horribly depressing last chapter. Thanks!  
**Kaworu, Fantacy:** Thanks!  
**Mrs Malfoy:** Thanks! Hope you liked the rest of it as well.  
**Joy:** Thanks! Too bad I didn't notice your offer to beta before. I actually needed extra help this time, sorting out the different versions of the chapter. Well... If there's ever a sequel...  
**Unicorn Chick:** Thanks! Well, Ron you've got Ron back.  
**Evil Insperaition (Ronnie):** Yes, I am Israeli, too. You're welcome to mail me if you want, assuming that the shipping of the story didn't give you a heart attack.  
**Catty:** Thanks! The D/Hr was in danger at some stage in the writing of this chapter, but I did stick to it...  
**Angelfire Malfoy:** Thanks! There are sites dedicated to Draco/Hermione stories, with hundreds of those. Just go to HP4ever to find out about those (This story is in none of them).  
**Bleh:** Very smart move on your side, quoting yourself on a bulletin board, as an example of the reviews I get. I'm quite pleased that you didn't like the story.  
**NetSurfer77:** Thanks!  
**lil'thang:** How emotional! Thanks!  
**gaf watcher:** I guess you're not reading this, but just in case you do - thank you so much!  
**roar:** Thanks! I'm not sure about the sequel yet... we'll see... Sorry that this has taken a while.  
**Jessica:** Ron really was a DE. That's why Snape's attempt to finish the spell on him had failed. Sorry about the shipping.  
**Divine:** Your review was the last straw - the thing that made me finally throw away my written and beta-ed dead!Ron chapter and write a new one from scratch. I owe you one! I think you can have Harry's boxers for it. No-one's asked for them (without Harry inside), anyway.  
**Airemay:** Thanks! Hope you got through the rest of the story all right.

47


	13. Extra Alternate scene for Chapter 12

Krum Do I Love

Alternate scene to chapter 12, right after Draco saves Harry from the Lethifold:

Draco rushed to Harry's side. He dropped to his knees and skidded the rest of the way to the prone boy. "You all right, Harry?" he asked warily, instinctively probing Harry's arm.

Immediately, the two boys where surrounded by a translucent black orb. Draco, whose veins were still filled with adrenaline from the attack, gasped sharply. Harry's presence was felt so strongly inside the sphere that there was no doubt about him being alive.

"I'm - all right, - no thanks - to you," Harry said between ragged breaths.

_I just saved your life, you ungrateful git_, Draco thought back.

"Well, that wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't disarmed me. Now, would it?"

"I thought you were going to kill yourself," Draco said, sounding offended.

"Why would I do a stupid thing like that?" Harry asked angrily.

"Er..." Draco said, and then thought, Because doing stupid things is your second trademark, right after 'Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived'

"Oh, Shut up, Malfoy," Harry fumed.

"I did shut up," Draco said smartly. "Not my fault you can hear what I think."

"You could break the sphere," Harry insisted.

"You could do the same, if you wanted to," Draco shot back, not giving the slightest sign of wanting to move.

"Right," Harry used Draco's famous drawl on that single word. "Only, you're holding me down. And even if you weren't, I'm not sure I'm ready to move just yet."

Draco stared at his left hand, pinning Harry's arm to the floor. His right hand had at some stage travelled to the side of Harry's face. It wasn't actually touching him, but Draco could see the other boy's point. Still, he didn't move.

Harry stared straight into Draco's steel-grey eyes. The metal coldness in them seemed somewhat faltered. His own emerald eyes were filled with concern. "All right," he said eventually, and then, with a very official tone, added: "Thank you for saving my life."

Draco stayed as still as an ice statue.

_What else, Malfoy? _Harry thought, annoyed.

_You know, this is probably the last time we're able to communicate this way,_ Draco thought sadly.

Harry seemed like he wanted to say something sarcastic, but couldn't come up with anything to match the occasion. "We can still talk," he said.

_It's not the same thing._

"No, it isn't," Harry agreed, still staring into Draco's eyes.

"Come on," Draco said, standing up abruptly. "I'll help you get into a bed. The others will be here soon, and Sirius will sooner kill me than let me explain what you're doing on the floor." He helped Harry stand on wobbly legs, and as was quickly turning into a habit, supported him through the length of the infirmary. Only after Harry was safely deposited in one of the hospital beds did he move back, breaking the black sphere that had held the two boys together until then.

Harry sat up, seeming in reasonable health. "Draco?" he said, using the other boy's first name. 

Draco waited.

"Thanks."

The blonde boy smiled, more to himself than to anyone else. Then, he turned away from his friend.

2


End file.
